On the other foot
by OneWonders
Summary: Set post-305, Arthur sends a reluctant Merlin on a trip. While Camelot appears to survive his absence unharmed, not all is as it seems. Arthur is acting strangely & when Merlin discovers the cause it turns their world upside down & sets father against son
1. The Lady Cwenburg

Chapter 1. The Lady Cwenburg

Merlin closed the door to Arthur's chambers behind him and sank back against it, releasing the breath it felt like he'd been holding for the last two weeks.

"They're going. They're really, really going!" Merlin murmured, his relief breaking through in the form of what was almost a nervous giggle. "We're free!"

Arthur raised his eyebrows as he dropped his sword belt onto the table. "They're not leaving until tomorrow, Merlin. Don't go counting your chickens."

Merlin shook his head slightly – he refused to let Arthur detract from this wonderful moment.

"You heard what your father said," he insisted, moving forward to intercept the only-washed-yesterday coat Arthur had shrugged off and was about to drop on the floor. "Two great families, friendships solidified, alliances strengthened, sorry to see them go, _leaving tomorrow_," he recapped. "'Leaving' – that's the key word here, 'tomorrow' coming a close second."

Arthur sat down in the chair at the head of the table and scrutinised Merlin as he went about hanging up the coat and returned to pour him a drink. His servant was still beaming from ear to ear. He was going to enjoy this.

"You know, Merlin," he began, biding his time, "from the way you're prattling on, anyone would think you're happy to see the back of Lord Aldwyn and Lady Cwenburg. You haven't enjoyed their stay with us here in Camelot?"

Merlin looked up at Arthur with a look of mischievous incredulity. "Have I enjoyed their stay?" he pondered, taking his chin in his hand in mock contemplation. "Oh, yes, terribly. What was my favourite part, I wonder? Perhaps when Lord Aldwyn partook in the libations a little too freely at the welcoming feast and brought up the contents of his stomach all over the floor in the corner of the great hall – twice – and I got to clean it up while people looked on and laughed. That was good. Or when he and half his servants came down with the fever and I had to help Gaius look after a dozen stinking, sweating, bedpan-using strangers for days on end, in between taking care of your ever-so-important royal self. Yeah, that was good, too."

Merlin had now walked around the table and was leaning on the back of one of the chairs as he spoke. Arthur could tell he was only just warming up and, for once, he was quite happy to let Merlin jabber away to his heart's content. He sat back in his chair and worked on changing his self-satisfied smirk into a look of interest and concern.

"But then – what am I thinking! – it only got better from there on in, didn't it?" Merlin was getting animated now that he'd built up some steam. His sarcasm apparently knew no bounds. "With Lord Aldwyn on his sick bed, Lady Cwenburg was free to parade herself all over Camelot and fling herself at every available man, wasn't she? Those seductive looks, her hands roaming freely whenever she thought there weren't too many people watching, outright _invitations_ to nights of...of..._debauchery_!"

Arthur couldn't hold in the bark of laughter that arose at that. "Oh, come now, Merlin," he remonstrated. "Don't pretend you didn't enjoy the attention!"

Merlin's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Arthur! She was sixty years old if she was a day!"

The prince again snorted with laughter and watched as Merlin pulled out the chair he'd been leaning on and sank into it.

"That woman," Merlin said, resting his elbows on the table and his head on both his hands, "is terrifying."

"Well, she speaks very highly of you," Arthur countered. "Of your lustrous black locks, your enchanting eyes..."

Merlin looked up at Arthur's mirthful face from between his fingers. "Shut up," he hissed, slowly.

Arthur let that one go, a sly smile still playing around his lips, and calculated his next move as Merlin rubbed his face vigorously in attempt to rid himself of the memory of the past two weeks.

After a moment, he rose to his feet and strode to where his armour was set out ready for his training session. "Not to worry, Merlin. We only have to protect your honour for one more day and they'll be on their way. I'll make sure guards are posted outside your room tonight."

"Ha ha," Merlin muttered, rising from the chair to help Arthur with his armour. "I'm just glad they're leaving this soon. With most of their servants still sick I thought they'd be here for longer. Gaius says most of them won't be ready to travel for days."

"It's funny you should mention that, Merlin," Arthur said, glancing behind him as Merlin began fitting the armour on his shoulder. "Lord Aldwyn is eager to return home as he has issues of some urgency to attend to. As you said, most of the servants who accompanied them here are still unable to travel, and so my father has offered them the service of several of our guards and some of our better servants on their homeward journey."

Merlin nodded and pulled sharply on a particularly stubborn buckle.

"So you'll be in good company," Arthur finished.

Merlin grinned and looked up from his work. "What?"

Arthur didn't even bother holding back the smile now. "The Lady Cwenburg asked for you by name, Merlin, I could hardly refuse, now, could I?"

"Arthur." Merlin abandoned the armour and rounded the prince to face him head on. "Arthur? This is a joke, right? Oh, I see what you did there. Yeah, very funny. You're a funny, funny man." He looked Arthur dead in the eye and the smile fell from his face. "You're not joking are you?"

"No."

"You're really making me go with them."

"That's right."

"You've been enjoying this, haven't you?"

"Very much." Arthur grinned broadly. "Armour, Merlin – I haven't got all day. Neither do you, actually. You'll need to make sure your work is up to date before you go."

Merlin stared back at the prince for a little longer and was met by a pair of raised eyebrows. Knowing his pleas would be better met if he was doing what he was told, he returned his attention to the armour and hastily began to petition his master.

"Aldwyn's land is what, a two week ride away? If I'm away for four weeks who's going to look after things for you? You need a manservant, Sire. You _are_ the Crown Prince of Camelot."

Arthur's lips twisted into a smile at the sudden use of the term 'sire'. This was doing Merlin good already.

"There are plenty of other servants, Merlin, who can do the job you do...only much, much better. I'll live."

"But what if something goes wrong? What if you're attacked by a beast when you're out hunting? Or if Cenred attacks again? What then?"

Arthur snorted. "As touching as your concern is, _Mer_lin, I think this would be a good time for us to remember that you are, in most such cases, totally and utterly useless. Therefore, it's hard for me to imagine that your absence will be anything other than a blissful break from your constant mindless chatter. Gloves."

Merlin picked the pair of gloves up from the table and passed them to the prince. "Arthur," he began carefully, attempting to appeal to his better nature, "Please? Lady Cwenburg. She'll...she'll..."

"Eat you alive," Arthur grinned, slapping Merlin on the shoulder and striding towards the door. "Look on it as a learning experience, Merlin. And make sure my stables are mucked out before you go."

And with that, Arthur was out of the door and marching down the hallway, laughing as he went.

Merlin was left standing alone in the room, utterly speechless.

* * *

"Lady Cwenburg, personally, asked that you attend her?"

Gaius was having trouble hiding his amusement. Merlin gave a deep sigh and met his guardian's gaze head on.

"You'll have to keep an eye on her," Gaius added, one eyebrow raised as high as it would go.

"I think the problem is more likely to be keeping _her_ eyes _off me_," Merlin corrected.

As Merlin let his head fall down to meet the table with a satisfying 'thud', Gaius couldn't contain the chortle that rose in his throat. "Never mind, Merlin," he consoled, patting Merlin on the shoulder as he rounded the table to continue on with his work. "It will only be for a couple of weeks and I'm sure her husband's presence will keep her in check."

Merlin sat up and spun around on the bench to face the older man. "You don't understand, Gaius. What about Arthur? I'll be gone for a month, maybe more. What if Morgana takes advantage of the fact that I'm not here watching her? What's to stop her trying to kill Uther again? Or, worse, trying to hurt Arthur? Like you said, he'll be only thing that stands between her and the throne once Uther's dead. We don't know what she's capable of."

Gaius lowered the vial of liquid he had been examining and looked back at Merlin, his face creased into a deep frown. "The news of Morgana's parentage _has_ made the situation more volatile," he agreed. "Perhaps Arthur can be convinced not to send you away?"

Merlin shook his head. "I've tried, Gaius. I followed him down to training and gave him every excuse I could think of. He's set on it. He seems to think it will make me see that there are a lot worse people I could be working for than him."

"Then there's nothing we _can_ do," Gaius resolved. "I will keep an eye on Morgana the best I can and you will have to make sure you get back to Camelot as quickly as possible."

"I suppose," Merlin sighed.

Gaius threw his young charge a comforting smile. "For the time being, I'm afraid Arthur and Camelot will just have to survive without you."


	2. Melancholy

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read, set up alerts and especially those who reviewed. This is my first Merlin fic and it really is very much appreciated. **

**I can't promise I'll continue putting up chapters at this rate (in fact, I can guarantee that I won't!) but Chapter 2 was ready to go so I thought I'd put it out there.**

**BBC own Merlin, not me.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

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Chapter 2. Melancholy

"I'm back!" Merlin entered the room with a flourish and a grin.

He'd arrived back in Camelot only hours earlier. After seeing Lord Aldwyn and Lady Cwenburg delivered safely, the rest of the loaned servants and guards had taken a couple of days to rest before taking on the return leg of their trip. Merlin, however, had turned right back around and completed his journey quickly and alone. The relief that had flooded through him when Gaius had assured him that nothing untoward had happened in his absence had been intense. He had, after all, spent the better part of four weeks imagining every calamity that could possibly have befallen Camelot in all its terror.

Now he was on a high. Avoiding Lady Cwenburg had been mercifully easy when he'd worked out that the key was to stay as close to Lord Aldwyn as possible. His Lordship was vulgar and short-tempered, but Cwenburg knew that too and gave him a wide berth. Once she realised Merlin was out of reach, she had quickly turned her attentions to another poor unfortunate. Now, he was completely free from her rather scary attentions, Camelot was, somewhat miraculously, still in one piece, and Arthur's chambers seemed to be cleaner than he'd seen them in ages (although, that last point could potentially work against him...) So he'd decided enjoy this unexpected respite and greet life (and Arthur) with a smile.

When he didn't get a response, he widened his grin and ploughed on regardless.

"Did you miss me?"

Arthur was sitting at the window looking out and hadn't even turned his head on Merlin's entrance. He did now, though, looking over at Merlin only briefly with a vacant expression, before turning back towards the window.

"I'll take that as a 'no' then, shall I?" Merlin said brightly, perching himself on the corner of the table. "Well, I missed you. Nearly four weeks with no one to shout at me or tell me what to do. No 'Merlin, you're such a girl' or 'Merlin, you're such a terrible servant you'd be more use to me dead, skinned and turned into a pair of leather candlesticks'."

Arthur turned and frowned at Merlin. "I've never said that. A pair of leather candlesticks? Whoever heard of leather candlesticks?"

"Fine. Gloves, then. A pair of leather gloves. Happy?"

"Delirious," Arthur concurred, running a hand through his hair and turning back to the window. "Is there something you want, Merlin?"

"Only to be of service, my liege," Merlin declared, hopping off the table and bending into a low, sweeping bow which Arthur didn't even turn to see. "What menial task do you want to throw at me first? Cleaning your armour? Mucking out the stables? Mopping the floors? Don't hold back now."

"It's fine. Just... go."

For the first time, Merlin's smile faltered. He'd seen Arthur Pendragon in some terrible moods before but never had he seen him lose the will to order servants around.

"Arthur?" Merlin took a few steps closer to the Prince, whose face was still averted. "Is everything all right?"

Arthur gave a deep sigh and tilted his head back a little. "It's fine," he repeated quietly. "I don't need anything. You can go."

Merlin's face crumpled into a confused frown. "Well, all right..." He looked around and noticed the breakfast dishes, still piled with food, at the end of the table. "Perhaps I could get you something to eat?"

"No," said Arthur, sounding more vague than irritated to Merlin's ear. "I ate...yesterday."

Merlin opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for the right thing to say and falling short. Eventually he nodded and began wandering towards the door. When he turned back to say goodbye, he saw that the young Prince had raised a hand to his face. He looked utterly dejected sitting slumped by the window and Merlin found himself searching for a reason to stay.

"Oh," Merlin groaned loudly, raising his arms and then letting them fall dramatically to his sides. "Your armour. It'll need cleaned after training this morning. And a day off would have been so nice-"

"The armour's clean," Arthur interjected, sitting up a little and turning to face Merlin. "I didn't train this morning. I was tired."

Merlin was once again lost for words. Arthur may as well have told him he didn't train because his head had exploded – the idea of the dutiful Crown Prince and fanatical trainer missing out on his daily practice because of simple fatigue, seemed so incongruous Merlin could hardly get his head around it.

"You were leaving?" Arthur prompted, when Merlin continued to stand and stare.

"Right," Merlin nodded. "Yeah. Well...send for me if you need anything." And he turned and made his way out of the door, a perplexed frown still on his face.

* * *

Merlin was so lost in thought he didn't notice Guinevere until he had nearly walked into her.

"Gwen."

"Merlin, you're back!"

"In one piece and unmolested," Merlin confirmed, before thinking better of his choice of words and turning slightly pink.

Guinevere pressed her lips together in a small smile and had the good grace to steer the conversation away from Lady Cwenburg's unwanted attentions.

"Have you been to see Arthur yet?" she asked, her eyes flicking quickly over Merlin's face.

"Yeah," Merlin confirmed, his thoughtful frown returning. "He seemed...odd."

Guinevere nodded quickly in agreement. "He hasn't seemed himself for days. I don't think he left his rooms at all yesterday."

Merlin's frown deepened. "And you two haven't...there isn't any reason..." he bit the bullet, "the two of you haven't had a disagreement of any sort?"

"No! No," Guinevere let her eyes fall from Merlin's face and she raised a hand awkwardly to the curls which lay on the back of her neck. "I don't know what's wrong. He won't talk to me."

Merlin shrugged a little and smiled at the young woman, who was obviously upset by the Prince's apparent rebuff. "He probably just missed me," he supplied. "Maybe without an inept manservant around to vent his frustrations at, the pressure of having all that money and getting whatever he wants just became too much for him to bear."

Guinevere looked up at Merlin and smiled. "That must be it," she agreed. "I should get back to Morgana. It's good to have you back, Merlin."

Merlin nodded and watched as she continued on down the corridor and disappeared around a corner. For a moment he considered going back to Arthur and trying to discover the source of the Prince's black mood, but then thought better of it. If Arthur was tired it would do him good to rest. Tomorrow Merlin would try again. After a long trip on horseback, he was looking forward to a bit of rest himself.

* * *

Arthur woke suddenly, a thin film of sweat covering his skin and making it prickle in the cool air. It was still dark and only the glow of the dying fire illuminated his room, throwing strange shadows on the thick curtains around his bed. For a moment he felt nothing, but then anger coursed through him, rich, potent and familiar. He pulled on the sheets bunched up in his hands and let his fists slam back down onto the bed. A growl of fury escaped his throat and he leapt from the bed and moved to resume his place of reflection at the window, sleep forgotten and the icy draft satisfyingly painful against his skin.

* * *

Merlin neared the closed door to Arthur's chambers and realised how quickly you could fall back into old routines. Balance both the plates carefully, a practiced combination of elbows, hip and heel and he was inside without having spilt anything. Nicely done.

His grin turned into a perplexed squint as he saw Arthur in the same position as he had been the afternoon before, hunched over by the window.

"Good morning, Sire," Merlin announced, treading carefully. "I brought you extra breakfast in case you were hungry."

Arthur appeared to grimace before swinging his feet stiffly to the floor and approaching the table. Merlin busied himself removing the untouched plates from the day before while Arthur stood by the table and picked at his breakfast noncommittally.

"I'll get a new fire started. It's clear out but cold. Do you have any idea what you're going to want to wear today? Gaius said something about a feast tonight. I guess that's for-" Merlin stopped short, having just caught his first glance at Arthur's gaunt face and hollow looking eyes. "Did you sleep _at all_ last night?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. Of course I slept," Arthur snapped, putting down a piece of cheese after one bite.

"Right." Merlin tried to hide his scepticism. "So, what's the plan for today? Training, with a bit of patrol thrown in for fun?"

Arthur's response was cut short, however, by a solid thump on the door.

"Your Highness? Your father requires your presence in the throne room."

Arthur turned to Merlin with a forced smile fixed to his face. "An audience with King Uther – what better way to start the day?" he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Merlin gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah. Um, let's get you dressed."

Arthur, developing a sudden interest in his breakfast, dropped down onto a chair. "No rush," he muttered, and began gnawing at a chunk of bread. Merlin stared in shock at the back of his head.

* * *

Merlin entered the throne room close at Arthur's heel and saw Uther seated with Morgana by his side. The young woman shot Merlin a cold, knowing look as he walked in and he did his best to return it. A thrill of nervous anticipation ran through him and Merlin couldn't help but wonder if he would ever grow used to their altered relationship and the knowledge that she could be plotting his downfall at any time.

"Father. Morgana." Arthur's tone had lost the sarcasm that had startled Merlin earlier, but remained cool and remote. Perhaps an argument with Uther was the cause of this dark mood?

"It's nice of you to join us, Arthur," Uther rebuked, obviously annoyed at Arthur's tardiness. "Sir Leon has reported that there have been further attacks and robberies in the lower town."

Arthur looked askance at Leon and it was obvious to everyone present that this was the first the Crown Prince had heard of the matter.

"Two days ago there were a number of robberies overnight," Sir Leon explained, looking slightly awkward. "The next night there were more thefts and two men leaving the tavern were beaten and left in the street. Last night there were even more such instances. One of the victims was a young mother who was knocked about the head upon stepping outside her home."

"Do you mean to tell me, Arthur," the King broke in when Leon paused, "that this is the first you've heard of this?"

Arthur looked towards his father but didn't quite seem to look him in the eye. Merlin winced at the discomfort of it all.

"It is, Sire."

Uther sat forward on his throne and glared at his son. "And look at the consequence of the negligence you have shown your duties," he all but shouted. "I know not the cause of this childish melancholy you seem to have developed of late, but I grow tired of it. It is clear to me that you are not well enough acquainted with your responsibility to your people or to me!"

Uther was brought up short by a soft hand placed on top of his left hand and he turned to see Morgana smiling soothingly at him. Merlin watched quizzically as the King mellowed almost instantly under Morgana's ministrations and settled himself back into his chair. She murmured a few quiet words to him and Uther nodded his head while breathing in deeply through his nose.

"You are right, of course. Our emphasis here should be on preventing any further attacks and catching the man responsible." He turned back to Arthur. "What do you propose to do to achieve this end?"

"We'll increase the guard and enforce a curfew," Arthur declared, suddenly all business. "I'll lead the tonight's patrol myself."

Uther nodded, satisfied by this response.

"Your Highness," Sir Leon began, looking more uncomfortable than ever. "I should also add that there have been several people who claim to have witnessed either an attack or someone fleeing the scene. They all report seeing a tall, dark haired man, wearing a scarlet cape and...the crest of Camelot."

There was a brief silence before Arthur protested his disbelief. "They claim they saw a Knight of Camelot commit these crimes? It cannot be. They must be mistaken."

"If they were all able to get a close enough look to have been able to make out the crest in the dark," Morgana spoke up, her voice smooth and gentle, "then I would be reluctant to dismiss their claims so easily, Arthur. There must be _some_ truth in it."

Arthur shook his head. "An imposter, then. None of my knights have done this; I stake my life."

"I hope you are right," Uther murmured, looking troubled.

"I am." And with that, Arthur turned on his heel, Merlin and Sir Leon following along in his wake.


	3. Betrayal

**A/N: All right, a lot needed to happen in this chapter, so it's a long one. Hope it's not too much.**

**Thanks again to everyone for reading and for the reviews. It really means a lot to me. I hope you'll all enjoy this chapter.**

**Cheers.**

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Chapter 3. Betrayal

Arthur strode through the town at a pace that had the townspeople scurrying out of his way and Merlin and a small pack of guards practically jogging to keep up.

"All I'm saying is..."

"I'm not interested."

"That they're still only human..."

"Not interested."

"Even if they are knights of Camelot."

Arthur stopped abruptly and Merlin couldn't avoid bumping into him before he came to a halt.

"Merlin. Listen to me very carefully." Arthur spoke slowly and deliberately. "These men are from noble families. They train diligently, day in and day out. They put themselves at risk of significant physical danger and _give their lives if required_ all for the good of Camelot. For all these reasons, I refuse to believe that any of my knights could possibly be behind these attacks."

Merlin nodded wordlessly, but Arthur wasn't done yet.

"More than that, though, _I_ trust them. To question them is to question me, my judgement and everything I work for. I meant what I said to my father – I will stake my life that each and every one of my knights is innocent. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Arthur. I'm sorry. I meant no disrespect." Merlin spoke sincerely, and wished he'd held his tongue in the first place. For whatever reason, the prince was volatile enough to begin with and Merlin suspected that the best way to help him was to stay 'on his side' come what may.

"Right," Arthur said, slightly taken aback by Merlin's compliance. "Let's get on with it then. We need to catch whoever's doing this, and quickly. I don't want any slipups. No need to give my father and Morgana anything else to complain about."

"Arthur," Merlin started, once again resuming his awkward jog at the prince's side. "What's going on with them? Have you fought with your father? Or Morgana?"

Arthur shook his head. "What would be the point in that? You should always pick your arguments, and I am _never_ going to win against that pair."

The bitterness in the young man's tone made the hairs on the back of Merlin's neck stand on end. What was going on here? What had changed while he had been away to cause this rift, this distrust? He didn't have to ask, for Arthur was obviously happy to talk.

"My father has always been loath to admit mistake to anyone, especially me. And Morgana, with the, shall we say, _influence_ she has, is always going to be able to convince Uther to carry her banner, even if it's against me. I can't win, so why bother trying? That's all become a lot clearer to me of late."

Merlin had his mouth open ready to speak but was interrupted by Sir Leon, who was approaching from the opposite direction.

"My lord, the guard has been increased and notice of the curfew given. The sweep of the lower town has been completed and returned nothing of interest. The patrols are ready for tonight."

"Very good." Arthur continued walking and Merlin had to drop back to make room for Sir Leon. "I want to hear every piece of information tonight. Should anything or anyone suspicious be found I want it brought to my attention immediately."

"Of course, Sire. I..." Sir Leon stopped walking and turned to face Arthur. "I wanted to say that I am sorry for the way things unfolded this morning. I had no intention of putting you in that position with your father. In your absence it was my responsibility to ensure the man behind the attacks was caught and I could not. King Uther should understand that this has been _my _failure, not yours."

Arthur shook his head and reached out to clap Leon on the shoulder. "I appreciate the motive behind that declaration, Sir Leon, though I cannot accept your culpability, as that lies with me. Let us focus our energy on catching this imposter and restoring the good name of Camelot's knights."

Sir Leon nodded in agreeance, his expression resolute, before heading off to continue his work.

Arthur turned to Merlin. "Let's go. I want to hear from some of these 'eye witnesses' myself."

Merlin followed along behind. He desperately wanted to ask Arthur about this earlier comments about Morgana and Uther but the moment had passed and he cautioned himself to bide his time. There were other matters at hand.

* * *

Arthur ducked his head as he exited through the door of the small house. Merlin had waited outside with Gwen so he hadn't heard what the young woman had had to say, but judging by Arthur's solemn expression, it hadn't been good.

With the door closed behind him, Arthur ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Her story was...hard to fault," he muttered. "She is certain the man was at least dressed as a knight, and I'm inclined to believe her."

Arthur squinted up at the sky where the last rays of late afternoon light were throwing an orange glow on the lower levels of thick cloud.

"Curfew will be in place soon. You need to be off the streets, Guinevere."

The handmaid nodded. "I have to get Morgana ready for the feast." She smiled at Arthur more with her eyes than her lips. "Good luck tonight."

She turned to leave but felt Arthur's hand catch her wrist. She looked back at him.

"Thank you for your help, Guinevere, for showing us to the right house. Make sure you take care until this man is caught."

"I will." Her hand touched his for the briefest moment and his heart worked faster within his chest. Then she turned and began weaving her way along the street, through the people hurriedly finishing up their business, on her way back to the castle and Morgana.

* * *

Only torches now lit the empty streets. As they passed some of the houses they could hear a soft hum of voices, but mostly it was quiet. The cold night was sharp and felt as though it could seep clear through to ones bones. Merlin drew his arms across his chest and buried his chin a little further down in his scarf.

"I almost wish I was serving at the feast," Merlin muttered, breaking the silence which had extended between the pair for some time.

Arthur turned to look at him with raised eyebrows.

"I did say _almost_."

Arthur directed his gaze along a side street and then back at Merlin. "We're better off out here."

They continued on quietly. A noise to their left caught their attention and Arthur drew his sword but lowered it when a large rat scampered out from a stack of baskets. Merlin laughed with nervous tension.

It was then that the bells rang out from the castle and all hell broke loose.

Arthur clenched his sword tightly in his fist and the pair took off along the street at speed in the direction of the castle. They could hear shouting coming from up ahead and other sets of feet running along behind them. Curious eyes looked out from inside the dimly lit houses. By the time they reached the courtyard, Sir Leon was striding along to meet them.

"There's been an attack inside the castle," he informed them as first Arthur and then Merlin came to a panting stop before him.

"Did you catch him?" Arthur demanded.

Sir Leon responded with a shake of the head. "He'd gone by the time the guards arrived. It happened right outside the Hall as the feast began. I'd have to assume he's still in the castle somewhere."

"Seal the drawbridge," Arthur barked, turning to the guards. "Let no one past. _No one._"

"Is anyone hurt?" Merlin asked, still panting slightly from his run.

Leon nodded. "Gaius is with her now. Lady Morgana's maid."

Merlin felt all the breath leave his body as though he'd been punched in the stomach. He turned to look at Arthur, who was staring open-mouthed at Leon.

"Arthur," he began. But the prince was already running, sword in hand, scattering men left and right as he went.

Merlin took off after him.

* * *

By the time Arthur and Merlin reached the Hall, an uneasy hum had filled the air as groups of disgruntled men and nervous-looking women stood in groups, the meal abandoned. Guards and knights were milling about, unsure of what they should be looking for, awaiting instruction.

Merlin saw Arthur scanning the room frantically, his blue eyes wide and his chest heaving from the run. Merlin craned to look around the small huddles of people, but it was quickly apparent that neither Guinevere nor Gaius was in the room. Arthur's eyes lit upon Merlin at the same time as Uther spoke his son's name and laid a hand on his shoulder. Merlin read the silent plea the prince sent his way.

"I'll find her," he mouthed, before Arthur turned to speak to his father.

Merlin began picking his way through the crowd and felt an icy chill as Morgana swept past him, her eyes fixed on his but unreadable. She moved directly towards where the two Pendragon's stood speaking and Merlin stopped and watched as the young woman stepped up behind Uther and whispered in his ear. Whatever she said, the effect was instantaneous.

"Guards!" Uther bellowed. "Call in anyone in the corridor and lock the doors. No knight is to leave this room."

"Father?" Arthur began, but he was silenced with a raised hand.

All chatter died away and when the locks on the doors were slid across the noise was unnaturally loud. Certain that he had everyone's attention, Uther spoke.

"This is going to end now. I will not have my people in danger, especially not within the walls of my own castle. In this kingdom, no one is above the law, be he peasant, noble or knight." He turned to Morgana. "Bring in the girl."

Her hands clasped almost piously in front of her, Morgana began walking towards a door. Anyone who had been standing in her way slipped back and allowed her through. All eyes were upon her. As she neared, the two guards at the door opened it for her and Merlin found himself staring at the empty space she had just vacated. A moment later, she reappeared with Gwen on her arm.

Even from yards away, Merlin could hear Arthur's sharp intake of breath as he laid eyes upon Gwen. Her head was bowed and she was holding a compress to the badly bruised right side of her face. Merlin could tell she was terrified and wished there was some way to put an end to this spectacle. But there was not, and the young woman was forced to continue her slow progress through the crowd of inquisitive nobles, with Morgana walking at her side, murmuring continually in comforting tones.

They came to a halt before Uther and Arthur, and Merlin saw the latter lift one hand slightly towards her before letting it drop. He suspected it was taking all the prince had not to reach out and hold her.

"I'm sorry this has been allowed to happen to you," Uther used his most reassuring tone as he considered the handmaiden. "But there is no need to fear telling us the truth. I will ensure your safety."

Arthur's hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Tell me what you saw," Uther directed.

Gwen's head remained bowed. Morgana began speaking to her in hushed tones, encouraging her confidence, and yet she said nothing. The gathered nobles began to whisper to each other.

"Guinevere," Arthur's voice cut through the hum of voices, low and painfully controlled. "Tell me who did this to you."

She looked up at him then, her dark eyes meeting his light ones, and it seemed to Merlin that she looked almost apologetic. "I...I was bringing Lady Morgana the necklace she had forgotten," she began, her voice soft, as though she were speaking only to Arthur. "He stopped me in the hallway. He hit me and... took the necklace." Tears fell despite her best efforts. "It...He looked like...Sir Cenwig."

Disorder broke out immediately. Cries of shock came from the onlookers, a rumble of discontent rose from the assembled knights and in the corner of the room, all eyes upon him, a young knight with dark hair, who Merlin knew to be a favourite of Arthur's and a good and loyal man, called out in protest.

"No! It was not I! I would never..."

He bit back his words obediently as Arthur interjected.

"Sir Cenwig, you will be heard in a moment." The prince was visibly shaken but when he turned his attention back to Gwen, his tone was once again calm and controlled. "It _looked_ like Sir Cenwig or it _was_ Sir Cenwig?" he asked. "This is important, Guinevere. Did you see his face?"

Merlin watched as Gwen's face crumpled. "I did, Sire," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Arthur set his mouth in a firm line and shook his head slightly. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he said quietly.

Things moved quickly from there. Sir Cenwig came before Uther, was searched and found to be in possession of the stolen necklace. Gwen was lead away to 'rest' and, although Sir Cenwig had protested his innocence vehemently, Uther had charged him with breeching both the Knights' Code and the laws of Camelot.

Arthur remained silent throughout, even as Sir Cenwig was stripped of his weapons and led away to the dungeons by a pair of rough-handed guards. The prince's face was blank and unreadable, but Merlin knew that turmoil lay buried not far beneath the surface.

"Friends." Uther's voice broke into Merlin's thoughts and seemed to pound against his already aching skull. "Let us leave this unpleasantness behind us. The night, after all, is still young."

He turned to Morgana, who offered her hand delicately and allowed herself to be led back to her seat at the head table. Merlin found himself watching Arthur from behind, waiting for him to follow this father and Morgana, but he appeared rooted to the spot. Then, without warning, he turned and began to walk from the Hall.

"Arthur?"

Uther's call was sharp, a warning not to be ignored. But ignore it Arthur did and seconds later he was gone. With an awkward look around the room at all the intrigued and watchful faces, Merlin turned tail and scurried after his master.

* * *

Merlin winced in anticipation as Arthur swept the tray of goblets from his table with one movement of his arm, but it didn't lessen the harshness of the noise as they hit the wall and then clattered to the floor.

"Why would he do that?"

Arthur's tone demanded an answer but Merlin wasn't sure he had one. Not one the prince was going to want to hear.

"I don't know. Maybe...maybe it wasn't him."

"Then how did the necklace come to be secreted about his person?" Arthur threw back. "And how was it that Guinevere named _him_ as the one who attacked her?"

Merlin shook his head helplessly. "But it seems so unlike him, Arthur. Maybe there is more to it than we know?" He thought of Morgana's composed features throughout the events, unflinching even when all about her were gasping with surprise. "Maybe there is magic behind it?" he suggested, cautiously.

Arthur snorted. "Magic? Careful, Merlin, you're sounding as paranoid as my father. No. There can be nothing more behind it than a lack of honour... and some _spectacularly_ poor judgement on my part." Arthur leaned against the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The whole Kingdom must think me a fool."

"No one thinks that of you, Arthur. You can't keep thinking like this. I know this betrayal of your trust hurts, but he is only _one_ man."

The laugh that escaped Arthur's lips was bitter. "Would that he was," he muttered, as he sank down into the chair at the head of his table, his arms lying limply on the rests. He looked the picture of utter dejection.

Merlin couldn't help himself. Regardless of the propriety of it, he pulled out the next chair, sat himself down and leaned forward to put his face in Arthur's line of sight. "What's going on, Arthur? You were your usual supercilious, dollop-head self when I left, and now you're all sullen and moody, there's obviously something going on between you and your father, and, frankly, you look like hell. Are you unwell? Have you seen Gaius?"

"There's nothing Gaius could do to help," Arthur said softly, his eyes blank and unfocussed. "I can't rest. I lie down to sleep but I wake up so..._angry_. I can't get past this."

"What?" Merlin asked, in a tone as low as Arthur's.

"The lies," he answered, flicking his eyes to meet Merlin's, the words falling from his tongue agonisingly slowly. "I know there have been secrets being kept from me. And now I know the truth. And the truth changes _everything_."

Merlin felt his blood turn cold as Arthur's gaze bore into him. He hadn't seen this coming. He wasn't ready for this. "It doesn't have to," he offered weakly.

"Of course it does!" Arthur protested, life suddenly flooding back into his features so that he looked almost unnaturally alert. "I don't want it to, but it does! If someone keeps such an important truth from you, hides part of themselves, how do you look them in the eye once you know?"

Arthur stood up abruptly and Merlin shot to his feet in turn.

"It doesn't have to change anything, Arthur," he insisted, desperation and fear rising inside him in equal parts.

But Arthur had turned his back on him and was walking off across the room. "And as angry as it makes me, knowing how things really are, the thing that I can't get out of my mind is 'why keep it from me?' Was it sheer cowardice or was I not to be trusted?"

"Arthur." Merlin was beginning to panic in the face of the rage that seemed to be rising in his master. He desperately wanted the chance to explain himself but the words were too hard to find and Arthur didn't seem to want to hear them anyway.

"But then I watched him," Arthur continued. "I watched him take her by the hand and go back to their meal as if nothing had happened, as if Sir Cenwig's disgrace didn't matter, as if that betrayal didn't hurt him." Arthur's voice was rising, his fury evident in every word, and Merlin watched on in utter confusion. "And I realised, betrayal is part of who he is. Betrayal is something he lives with everyday so that he can remain the perfect king. The great, untouchable King Uther. He who judges all around him but hides his mistakes so that he can never be held to account. What kind of man does this?"

"I don't understand," Merlin murmured truthfully, as Arthur turned to look at him once again.

"My father," Arthur spat, each word careful and calculated, "is Morgana's father."

Merlin's mouth fell open as his mind worked to clear the confusion that was clouding his thinking. This wasn't about him. Relief pounded through him.

"How do you know this?" he asked, breathless.

"I just know," Arthur responded, his voice cold and hard. "I woke up one night and I knew the truth. Every night I become surer. Every night the veil is lifted further from my eyes."

The relief that had flooded through every part of Merlin's body a moment before disappeared. What Arthur was saying felt strange and dangerous. His face looked so unfamiliar and the energy flowing from his was vibrant and enraged.

"So, you haven't spoken about this with your father or Morgana?" he asked, cautiously.

"No," Arthur allowed. "No, but I should. I should _now_."

"Arthur, that's not what I meant!" Merlin exclaimed.

But the prince had taken hold of the idea and to Merlin's horror he began to walk purposefully towards the door. Merlin dashed to his side and laid a restraining hand on his chest.

"Talk to him, Arthur, but not now. The feast is still going on. You don't want to do this in front of all those people." He tried to smile, tried to make the gasp of laughter that he forced out sound natural and calming.

"Get your hand off me, Merlin."

"Maybe you could see him tonight, once the feast..."

"Get your hand off me!"

Arthur's roar and the fury in his face convinced Merlin to let go but as he attempted to step back to put some space between them he realised something was holding him in place. A wave of energy swept up Merlin's body, hot and fierce, and settled around his throat where is started to squeeze like a pair of invisible hands, choking the breath out of him and lifting him, helpless, high off the ground.

Merlin's eyes bulged in shock and, as he looked desperately to Arthur, the only things he could see were the prince's eyes, fixed on him, and dancing with golden light.


	4. Like Magic

**A/N: All right, I'm putting this chapter up a little bit earlier that I had planned because I couldn't have anyone being "very, very upset" - ariacle ;) and because Yukka Sam asked so nicely! **

**Thanks so much for taking the time to leave a review, folks; it's really very nice of you!**

**Having said that, this chapter isn't going to give you very many answers, but I promise they're coming.**

**Cheers**

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Chapter 4. Like Magic

Merlin couldn't understand. He was suspended in mid-air, struggling for breath, his lungs beginning to scream with pain. Arthur was holding him there even while his arms were limp by his side, his fists clenched. His eyes were still gleaming; earthy, golden light leaping from them in a way that spoke to Merlin's soul. He was entranced, unable to look away from this astonishing and appalling sight. And yet he had to. The sides of his vision were beginning to turn fuzzy and black.

"Arthur," Merlin managed to choke out, or something like it. "Arthur, please."

He knew he needed to find a way out of this, but inside his head all he could hear was his own voice repeating the same thing over and over again: 'Arthur's using magic, Arthur's using magic'. It wasn't until the voice changed to the more motivating observation of 'Arthur's trying to _kill me_ with magic', that Merlin was provoked into taking some real action.

"_Áhreddinge,_" he hissed, summoning what little energy he had left and channelling it all into the spell.

Instantly, he felt the magical coils around his neck release and he fell to the floor. Gasping for breath, he rolled onto his side so that he could see Arthur in case he had to be ready to defend himself. Instead, he saw the prince sway slightly before collapsing to the ground, taking with him a stack of freshly polished armour which had been sitting on a side table.

Merlin leapt to his feet, his head spinning a little in the process. "Arthur!"

He was at his side quickly, one hand tentatively touching the large lump that was already forming on the prince's brow. Arthur's eyes were closed and his sallow complexion looked worse than ever. Merlin was considering a quick healing spell when a loud bang on the door assaulted his already frazzled nerves.

"Your Highness?" a male voice called out. "Is everything all right?"

Merlin quickly weighed up his options. "No!" he called out after a moment. "Can we get some help?"

The door swung open and two guards walked in. "We were passing and heard a crash," the first began, before his eyes picked out the unconscious prince lying sprawled on the floor. "What happened?"

"The Prince is unwell," Merlin told them, his hands slipping under Arthur's head to lift it from the stone floor. "Fetch Gaius."

The guards exchanged a quick glance before one hurried out of the room. Together, Merlin and the other guard lifted Arthur awkwardly and carried him to his bed. Then Merlin set about extricating Arthur from his chainmail, his eyes frequently examining the pallid face upon the pillow which, though sickly, looked so much more familiar without the wild energy which had scared Merlin so much only minutes earlier.

* * *

Gaius hurried to the bed and examined the swelling on Arthur's head only briefly before looking across at Merlin, who was perched on the opposite side.

"What happened?" he asked, a mystified tone to his voice. "He looks appalling."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "He, er, fainted and hit his head," he supplied, before pursing his lips and trying to make his nods towards the nearby guard as subtle as possible.

Gaius looked across at his charge for a long moment, one eyebrow lifted in confusion, before he caught Merlin's drift.

"Yes, well, I'm sure this is no cause for concern. Thank you for your help," he said, turning towards the guard who was still lingering near. "You may return to your patrol."

The guard seemed slightly hesitant. "Should I notify the King of his son's illness?"

"No!" Merlin cried impulsively.

Gaius threw him a quick look of incredulity. "No, that won't be necessary," he said smoothly, smiling cheerfully at the guard. "I shall inform the King myself shortly."

The guard nodded, satisfied with that, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Now, what did you do?" Gaius demanded, turning back to Merlin.

"Me? No, it wasn't me."

"Hmm." Gaius peered closely at Arthur's head. "You know, I think it might be frowned upon to knock the Crown Prince unconscious."

Merlin pressed his lips together and leant over the bed towards Gaius. "_He_ picked _me_ up by the neck and lifted me up in the air..."

"Why? What had you done?"

"No, you're not listening Gaius."

"It would be a lot easier to listen if you'd get to the point," Gaius countered, turning around to dig something from his bag.

"Fine!" Merlin exclaimed, knowing he'd have Gaius' full attention in a moment. "Arthur picked me up by the neck _with magic_."

Gaius turned around quickly and stared at the young man opposite him. "He did what?"

"Arthur used magic," Merlin repeated.

"Shhh," Gaius hissed, with a glance around towards the door. "Merlin, think about what you're saying. How could that possibly have happened?"

"I don't know, Gaius, but it did. He nearly killed me!"

Gaius shook his head. "No. There must be some mistake."

"You wouldn't be saying that if it'd been you hanging up there near the ceiling," Merlin snapped. "Besides..."

A groan from Arthur brought them both up short and they turned their attention back to the Prince as his eyes flickered open and his hand went to his head.

"What happened?" His voice came thick and forced.

"You hit your head, Sire," Gaius said, with a cautioning look across at Merlin.

"How did I do that?"

"Merlin says you fainted."

"No, Merlin doesn't," Merlin protested.

Arthur ignored his manservant. "I don't faint," he muttered scornfully, doing his best to sit up and failing.

"And I suppose you don't _magic_ your servants up in the air while you _magically_ choke them, either, do you?" Merlin cried, ignoring Gaius' groan of annoyance.

"What?" Arthur demanded incredulously. "Merlin, have you lost your mind?"

Merlin gave a shout of disbelief.

"Merlin, that's quite enough," Gaius admonished, his eyes reflecting his shock. "I don't know what's got into you. Have you been on the mead?"

Merlin held his hands up in the air, frustration written all over his face.

"Hold still, Sire," Gaius murmured, throwing Merlin one more frown before leaning in towards Arthur's injured forehead with a cloth and a jar of ointment.

But Arthur was still staring at Merlin and wanted none of Gaius' attention.

"Not now, Gaius," he said, swatting at the physician's hands. "What can you mean by such an accusation, Merlin?"

"You're trying to tell me you don't have magic?" Merlin asked, folding his arms tightly over his chest.

"Of course I don't have magic," Arthur shouted, pushing again at Gaius' persistent hands. "I said not _now_, Gaius!"

A bright flash of light lit up the room, a sharp crack sounded and Gaius cried out in pain, dropping the ointment and pulling his hands back towards his chest.

Arthur gasped in shock.

"You...You..." Gaius stuttered, his eyes wide open as he stared at the Prince. "I don't believe it."

Arthur scrambled up into a sitting position. "I...I didn't. It wasn't me," he choked.

Gaius rubbed his hands to ease his painful fingers and looked across at Merlin.

"It _was_ you, Arthur," Merlin said quietly. "Are you saying you didn't mean to do that?"

"No!" Arthur's hands were shaking as they lay in his lap. "Of course I didn't. I would never..."

A crash on the other side of the room made all three jump and they looked over to see a second goblet fly off the floor and crash against the far wall. Merlin spun back around and saw Arthur's eyes, widened with fear, swirling like two pools of molten gold. A third crash behind him was followed by a fourth and a fifth. Merlin looked desperately across at Gaius, whose jaw was hanging loose.

"Arthur, calm down." Merlin fought to keep the excitement from his voice. "You need to stop this. Someone's going to hear."

Arthur seemed completely lost for words now and his chest was heaving with each breath. The breastplate that had been lying on the floor with the rest of the fallen armour now flew off the ground and crashed into the screen in the corner of the room. Merlin exchanged frantic looks with Gaius and winced as a gauntlet swept overhead and slammed against the wall.

"Arthur, stop!" Gaius demanded, his voice as authoritative as Merlin had ever heard it. "You must stop this now. Calm down. Everything is going to be all right."

"That's right," Merlin echoed, kneeling on the bed and reaching out to hold Arthur by the shoulders. "Everything's going to be all right, Arthur, honestly. Just calm down, please."

Arthur nodded silently, his expression close to terrified, and Merlin watched as his eyes faded gradually back to their normal blue. Merlin let out a slow sigh of relief.

Gaius sat back heavily in the chair by the bed and stared at the two young men before him, dumbstruck.

"This can't be happening," Arthur murmured, speaking for all of them.

Merlin patted him lightly on the shoulder and was about to speak when the sound of voices caught his ear. Jumping up from the bed he hurried to the door and opened it just enough to take a look along the corridor. Then he closed it quickly and turned to the other two with a panicked expression on his face.

"Uther," he hissed.

Instantly, a dozen items from around the room soared into the air.

"We can't let him see Arthur like this!" Gaius cried, aghast, ducking as a plate whizzed past his ear.

Merlin thought quickly. "A sleeping draught! Give him a sleeping draught!" he cried, launching himself towards the bed.

Gaius searched frantically through his bag as the voices drew neared before pulling out a small jar. "Here!"

Merlin snatched the bottle from the physician and his fingers fumbled briefly with the stopper.

"Arthur," he cried, finally getting the jar open. "You need to drink this."

The Prince turned to look at him, warily. For a second Merlin worried that he was about to be hoisted up into the air again, but he swallowed his trepidation and did his best to smile at his master. "Drink it, Arthur. We'll fix this, I promise, but right now we need you to not to be awake when Uther gets here."

He raised his eyebrows in a hopeful gesture and raised the jar to Arthur's lips. A second later, Arthur gripped the jar himself and poured the liquid down his throat. Merlin knelt back and stared back at Arthur. Without warning and within seconds of each other, Arthur slumped to his side, the airborne objects fell to the floor, and King Uther strode in the door.

Merlin hurriedly pulled the blankets over Arthur and set his head comfortably on the pillow while Gaius moved to meet the King at the door. Then he sprang to his feet by the bed and waited while the two men talked.

Uther listened attentively to Gaius and when he was finished speaking moved quickly to his son's bedside and lowered himself into the chair.

"Do we know the cause of this illness?" he asked, regarding his son closely.

"Not yet, my lord," Gaius murmured. "But I will begin treating him for his symptoms while we look further into the cause."

Uther reached out and brushed the hair tenderly back from his son's forehead. "And he has been unconscious since he hit his head?"

"That's correct, Sire," Gaius confirmed, glancing quickly at Merlin, who was trying to remain inconspicuous at the foot of the bed.

Uther sat silently for a moment, his head tilted to one side as he looked down at his son. "Arthur, can you hear me?" he murmured softly, cupping the Prince's face with his hand. "It's your father."

Arthur's head moved on the pillow and a quiet groan escaped his lips. Merlin winced; the draught had not had long to take effect. He looked across at Gaius and was surprised to see the old man's eyes wide with horror. Merlin followed his line of sight and saw a large pewter jug rising up from the bedside table and hovering unsteadily over the King. Nearly tripping over in his haste to intercept it, Merlin edged along behind Uther, and lunged at the jug just as if was about to fling itself at the back of Uther's head. Sensing the movement behind him, Uther looked around and frowned as he saw his son's manservant holding a jug aloft.

"Thirsty, my lord?" Merlin queried, thinking fast.

Uther shook his head and threw the boy a confused look before turning back to his son. Merlin rolled his eyes at Gaius and ran a hand over his face, thoroughly mortified.

"I'll leave him in your care," Uther announced, standing and giving Merlin one more reproving glare, which was met with a wide smile.

Gaius nodded respectfully. "I'll send word the moment he wakes, Sire."

"Make sure he has everything he needs," Uther directed Merlin, as he began to walk to the door, where Sir Leon was waiting for him. Halfway there, however, he paused and looked about him at the objects scattered all over the floor. "And for goodness' sake, tidy this room," he ordered. "It's a mess."

"Of course, Sire," Merlin murmured.

The door closed behind him and Merlin and Gaius both moaned in relief.

"Well," said Merlin, collapsing into the chair recently vacated by Uther, the pewter jug still in his hand, "that was easy."

Gaius shook his head and laughed from sheer disbelief.

"Now if we can just make sure Arthur is unconscious anytime Uther is in the room, it'll be fine." Merlin laughed. But he couldn't sustain it. He clutched at his dark hair with his free hand. "Gaius, what are we going to do?"


	5. Unravelling

**A/N: This took a little longer than I intended, so I'm sorry for the wait. Also, it's a bit dark and angsty, but I can promise some lighter intervals to come. **

**Thanks to everyone for reading and to those who've been kind enough to review.**

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Chapter 5. Unravelling 

Gaius sat up a little straighter in his chair as the door swung open. Merlin could hardly be seen behind the stack of books he was carrying, but he had, miraculously, made it all the way up to Arthur's chambers in one piece and now their study could begin.

Merlin grunted as he carefully deposited the volumes on the table.

"No more floating goblets?" he asked, looking over at where Arthur lay, dead to the world.

"No. The draught has taken full effect," Gaius confirmed. "We shouldn't hear from him again until morning. Were you able to find them all?"

Merlin nodded. "The whole list."

Gaius was already pulling a large book off the top of the stack. Merlin watched as he sank down onto a chair and began skimming through the worn pages with practiced fingers.

"So," Merlin began, heaving the next book from the pile over to a clear space on the table, "what is it we're looking for?"

Gaius shook his head but didn't look up. "I haven't the foggiest idea," he admitted. "Anything that would come close to explaining how Arthur could suddenly have come into possession of a significant magical ability. Although..."

Merlin continued flipping through the tome which lay before him and only looked up when it became clear Gaius had become lost in his thoughts.

"Although what?"

Gaius' brow wrinkled and he appeared hesitant, almost unwilling, to elaborate on the idea he had been mulling over in his head. Eventually, he looked Merlin in the eye. "Arthur _was_ born of magic," he reasoned. "Perhaps it isn't _such _an outlandish idea to think that he might..."

"No." Merlin sat back in his seat and shook his head vehemently, a disbelieving laugh escaping his throat. "You aren't suggesting Arthur actually _has_ magic? Real magic...of his own? No. No way."

Slightly taken aback by Merlin's intense rejection of the idea, Gaius regarded the young warlock carefully. "Think about it, Merlin. Nimueh's involvement in Arthur's birth was no small thing. Such strong magic... Would it really be inconceivable that a child born of such sorcery would grow up to possess some degree of magical ability?"

Merlin smiled a reluctant smile and again shook his head. "But this is _Arthur_," he countered. "There's isn't a magical bone in his body. He's the _antithesis_ of magic – he's all about swords and battering people and doing _sensible_, _practical_ things. The most magical thing about him is...well, me! Besides anything, he's Uther's son. No child of that man..." But then he thought of Morgana and pulled up short.

Gaius nodded thoughtfully. "But the fact that he has been brought up by Uther, been deprived of his mother due to 'magic', grown up watching his father go to such terrible lengths to wreak his revenge on all things magical, perhaps that was enough to subvert his magical abilities, push them deep under the surface so that not even he knew about them."

Merlin closed his eyes. "So you're saying that Arthur has had magic all his life but that it has only now come to the surface?" he asked, sceptically.

Gaius looked straight back at him for a while and then sighed and shook his head. "No. I cannot believe it to be true myself. I feel the answer is much more likely to lie elsewhere. But it is an idea that we would be foolish to ignore.

"Whatever we are dealing with, there is considerable strength behind it. To be able to do the things Arthur was doing without spell or incantation – or even _thought_, I suspect – is incredibly powerful magic. For it to be in the hands of someone who appears to have little or no control over it... Well, I dread to think what could happen."

Merlin ran a hand back through his hair and turned to look over to the bed where the prince lay. "Gaius, if we can't help him, if we can't find a way to free him of...whatever it is that is causing this, what do you think Uther would do to him?"

The old physician let out a deep sigh. "Uther's hatred for magic knows no bounds. We _must_ find a cure. For both their sakes."

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In the grey light of predawn, Arthur's head moved restlessly on the pillow, his eyes flickering slightly behind his eyelids and his lips moving as if in speech. He shifted slightly onto his side and lay quietly again. At the table a short distance away, Gaius closed the final book.

"Well," he sighed, "that one was entirely useless. Did you fare any better?"

Merlin had been sitting with his chin resting on a stack of closed books for some time, his eyes shut but his mind still ticking over. He sat up stiffly and shook his head. "Not really. Unless I missed the chapter on 'What To Do When Magic Falls Out of the Sky Into the Lap of the Most Unmagical Person You've Ever Met'."

Gaius rolled his eyes slightly. "Merlin, I can't help but think that the time for such _useful_ observations may be behind us," he said reprovingly. "Dawn is nearly upon us and if we want to try to achieve anything before Arthur wakes, we need to hurry."

Brought back into line, Merlin rose from the table with a slight groan. "Right," he said, knitting his fingers behind his head and beginning to pace back and forth across the room. "So, what are our options? Arthur could be possessed in some way by a magical being. He could be being controlled through sorcery. He could be under some kind of enchantment."

"Or be in possession of an enchanted object," Gaius supplied.

"Or it's actually magic of his own," Merlin finished.

Gaius nodded at Merlin's succinct recap of their night's research. He couldn't help thinking that the books had given them a lot of questions and not a single answer.

"So, where do we start?" Merlin sighed, coming to a stop next to Arthur's bed.

"I suggest we start with the easiest things to prove or disprove," Gaius said, rising and walking over to join Merlin. "If it comes to nothing, we've lost nothing."

Merlin nodded his agreement and then focussed on Arthur, his gaze growing intense as he focussed his energies. He thought back to the spells he had read during the long night. Slowly, he raised one hand towards the sleeping Prince and drew back his shoulders.

"_Drýcræft ætwist ic i __ácýðe ðu_." Merlin felt the magic flow through his body, strong and commanding, and then he stopped and watched closely.

When there was no physical change in the Prince, he cast Gaius a sidelong glance before trying again.

"_Lást forecyme_," he hissed.

The Prince's face remained pallid and entirely his own.

"Well," Gaius murmured, "either there's nothing possessing him or there is but it's too powerful to be forced out with a spell."

"Or I'm not doing it right," Merlin added, sinking down into the chair.

Gaius rested his hand on the young man's shoulder. "It's been a very long night. Don't become despondent because the first thing we try doesn't work. As a physician you learn quickly that you cannot take to heart each failure, especially when there are so many avenues of investigation left unexplored. Besides, Arthur himself may well be able to shed some light on things when he wakes."

Merlin nodded silently and cradled his chin in his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. He was tired and his eyes were starting to sting in their sockets, and yet sleep was the furthest thing from his mind.

"I have a patient in town I must see this morning," Gaius said, moving towards his open bag. "I'll go now while it's still early and when I come back we can tackle Arthur together."

"Hopefully not literally," Merlin remarked.

"Quite." Gaius grinned, heartened by the young man's ability to find humour in nearly every situation. "Why don't you put your feet up and rest for a while? I'll be back as soon as I can."

Merlin watched through half closed eyes as the elderly physician made his way from the room and, not for the first time in the last few hours, felt thankful that he had his help and guidance. It had been Gaius' idea to tell Uther that Arthur had fallen victim to a contagious illness, and that he needed to be kept in isolation for the good of the rest of the castle. That kept the King out of Arthur's chambers and out of range of his disturbingly accurate aim with assorted floating objects.

Without Gaius' leadership, Merlin would be floundering. Nothing in Gaius' wise old books had spoken to him of a cause or a cure to Arthur's predicament and his own intuition, which he was only just beginning to learn to pay heed to, was disturbingly silent. He felt as if his mind was still struggling just to take in what had happened. Never in his life had he seen something as shocking, as extraordinary, as Arthur with his eyes ablaze, his anger and frustration reaching out to Merlin and somehow translating into that fierce magic which had had Merlin gasping for breath.

Merlin sat up a bit straighter and let that thought move around in his brain a little, turning it over and letting it unfurl. All the magic Arthur had used had seemed like an extension of the wrath that had been unleashed in him over the last few days. A magical embodiment of the anger brought on by Arthur's discovery of his father's lies.

And that discovery, Merlin pondered, was strange on its own. What was it Arthur had said? Every morning he is surer. Like a veil lifted from his eyes. Every morning he wakes up angry.

Merlin moved so that he was sitting on the edge of the chair. They were tied together somehow; Arthur's unexplained revelations and his amazing new gift. He was suddenly convinced of the connection. He didn't know what it meant or what could be behind it, but at least he had a starting point. He leaned forward and regarded Arthur closely. All night he had been glad that the Prince slept soundly and now he was desperate for him to wake up so he could ask him the questions that were burning on his tongue.

He was almost considering giving the Prince a sharp poke when a sudden knock on the door made him nearly leap out of his skin. He rushed to the door, all the while trying to calm his racing heart, and opened it to see Sir Leon standing in the corridor, which was still lit softly by lamp light.

"How is Prince Arthur?" the knight asked, his voice hushed as he peered past Merlin into the room.

Merlin pulled his face into a concerned frown. "He's still sleeping," he murmured. "Gaius says he's as well as can be expected."

Sir Leon let out a deep sigh and Merlin felt almost guilty for his deception. Then he remembered just how _ill_ Arthur would be if Uther was to find out about his magic and he realised he wasn't really straying that far from the truth.

"The King requests Gaius' attendance in the Throne Room."

Merlin shook his head. "Gaius is in the lower town caring for a patient he couldn't neglect," he explained. "I can tell him to go to the King when he returns. He won't be long."

It was Sir Leon's turn to frown. "The King is anxious for news of his son," he explained. "You had best come down yourself. You can at least tell the King how Arthur passed the night."

It was all Merlin could do not to groan out loud. He knew there would be no arguing with this. "All right," he said, throwing an uneasy glance over his shoulder to where the Prince lay sleeping. "But I'll need to be quick. Arthur will wake soon and he shouldn't be left alone."

With one last look back into the room, Merlin stepped through the door and closed it carefully behind him.

* * *

Arthur woke slowly. For a while he revelled in the sensation; it had been some time since he had woken without a sudden start and a sense of foreboding. But it didn't last long and as he pushed his head back on the pillows the wound to his head started to ache and memories of the night before came flooding back.

An unfamiliar feeling of panic rising in his chest, Arthur pushed himself into a sitting position and looked around. He was alone and for that he was grateful – the last thing he needed after last night was to see Merlin's face peering at him with those inquisitive eyes.

The early morning light was sharp and clear, hurting his eyes and sending a needle-like pain through his head. He raised a hand to cover his eyes, but when he took it away the light had mellowed and had an unnatural, hazy glow which was much easier on Arthur's head. He struggled free from the blankets and put his feet down onto a pelt which was warm to the touch, as though the fur had been heated next to a roaring fire. He forced his aching body to move and padded slowly across the room, soothed continuously by the gentle light and comforting warmth. But it wasn't until he licked his lips in thirst and unthinkingly reached out towards a cup that was floating in mid air within easy reach that he realised what was happening.

Startled, he struck out at the cup, knocking it away and watching as it flew across the room and hit the ground, leaving a trail of liquid across the stone. He stood staring at it as it rolled in a wide circle before coming to a stop. He could hardly breathe.

This couldn't be him. He couldn't be doing this. The cup, Gaius' hand, Merlin hanging there in the air, choking...

Arthur ran his hands roughly over his face and took a great gulp of air.

All his life he'd known that magic was evil. He'd know that as sure as he'd known anything. He was a child of the Great Purge, brought up amid the fear and pain of the battle against those who practiced magic, those who held in their hearts a desire to see the downfall of Camelot. He'd seen peace restored to the kingdom but knew the price that had been paid. And he knew it was worth it. Those with magic were not to be trusted. They were wicked at their very core. Their souls were black.

And here he was, Arthur, Crown Prince of Camelot, with magic beating inside his heart. He could feel it in every movement, every thought that crossed his mind. It leapt from him without deliberation, painlessly and without asking anything in return. It was easy, so easy...and what did that make him?

Arthur paced across the room, fury building inside him. The light in the room changed again, becoming stronger and taking on an angry red hue. He saw it but couldn't stop it. Clamping a hand to his mouth, Arthur came to a halt by the window.

What would his father think of this? His father who had dedicated so many years of his life to protecting the kingdom from magic. His father who had spent those same years lying to every living soul about Morgana and her place in his life. The anger he had felt upon learning of his father's deception had been all consuming. And yet, was he, Arthur, any better? He'd taken an oath to uphold the laws of Camelot and here he was flouting the very heart of them. Was he not just as treacherous as his father?

With a low, guttural growl Arthur turned and hurled his fist against the solid brick wall. The air in the room seemed to vibrate, thick and heavy, and, as if with one huge stroke, the books on the table rose up to the full height of the room and began to rain down on Arthur as he stood by the window. With one arm raised over his head in a half-hearted token of defence, he sank down to the floor. His body tensed as it absorbed each blow but he made no attempt to put a stop to it. Wave after wave of shame and self-loathing broke over him and it was all he could do not to drown in them.


	6. Two Conversations

**A/N: This chapter was good to write, so hopefully it'll be good to read, too. Thanks so much for the lovely reviews which have been left. I'm SO glad people are enjoying this story and I hope you'll continue to do so. **

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Chapter 6. Two conversations

Merlin hurried along the corridors, all but ignoring the curious glances that were sent his way. Overnight the castle grapevine had been working furiously and by now no doubt half of Camelot thought the Prince was at death's door.

Uther was standing with his back to them when Merlin had entered the room with Sir Leon at his side. It wasn't so long since Merlin had met the King in similar circumstances while Morgana lay dying in Gaius' chamber, her pale face bearing a resemblance to Arthur's now equally sickly visage which Merlin found hard to shake from his head. But Arthur wasn't dying, he had to remind himself...so long as Uther didn't find out the truth.

"Where is Gaius?"

The King's voice was as cold and aloof as usual and it plucked recklessly at Merlin's already frayed nerves. He was trying to think of the right thing to say when Sir Leon mercifully cut in.

"Gaius was called away briefly to the town," the knight explained. "He left Prince Arthur still sleeping. Merlin has been watching over him."

Uther regarded Merlin as if it was the first time he had ever set eyes upon him. How did he manage to replicate that same look every single time they met? Merlin bowed his head and fixed his eyes on the floor in what he hoped would be interpreted as a respectful gesture.

"How is Arthur? Has he woken yet?" Uther asked, a barely noticeable softening of his tone betraying his feelings.

Merlin looked up and did his best to focus on this small display of parental concern rather than the sheer terror Uther managed to evoke in him.

"No, Sire. He has been asleep since he fainted in his chambers last night. Gaius says that's a good sign – that his body is working to fight the contagion."

Uther nodded solemnly. "And just how easily passed along _is_ this illness? What precautions should we be taking?"

"Other than keeping Arthur...the Prince, confined to his chambers and allowing no visitors I don't think there is much else that can be done, Your Highness," Merlin said, wishing he was better at making these stories believable.

Uther nodded then let out a sigh and raised a hand to his brow. "This sickness seemed to come upon him so quickly," he murmured. "Arthur is usually so robust, so resilient when illness strikes. But then, he's been so unlike himself of late."

"Perhaps," Merlin suggested, "perhaps that was part of the illness?"

His eyes widening, Uther seemed to latch onto this idea immediately. "Yes, of course," he agreed, with enthusiasm. "I knew there must be an explanation. It is not in Arthur's nature to be so moody and highly strung."

Merlin nodded, glad to have deflected some of the attention from Arthur's recent temperamental behaviour.

"Make sure you tend your master well," Uther instructed, obviously preparing to send Merlin on his way. "And tell Gaius to find me when he knows more about this illness, or if Arthur's condition should change."

"Yes, Sire," Merlin bobbed his head and then turned and scurried from the room.

Outside, he stopped only briefly to take a few steadying breaths before setting off along the corridors as fast as he could. His stomach lurched as he moved but he did his best to put it to the back of his mind. This whole thing was making him feel sick. Secrecy had been part of his everyday life for as long as he could remember, but right now he felt like he was up to his neck in it. The more convoluted life in the castle became, the more he wanted just to turn tail and run back to Ealdor. But he couldn't do that. Life in Ealdor wouldn't be enough for him now and there was no way he could leave Arthur. Apparently his destiny wouldn't let him do that even if he wanted to.

Merlin rounded the corner into the last in the labyrinthine series of corridors which would take him to Arthur's chambers and felt a rush of relief when he saw all was quiet and Arthur's door still shut. If luck was going his way, Arthur would still be sleeping in his bed.

The moment he stepped into the room, however, he knew that wasn't to be. The air in the room had a sinister glow to it, red and unwelcoming, and Merlin could feel it thrumming with violent energy. The bedclothes were pushed back and abandoned, the books had been thrown from the table and lay scattered on the floor on the far side of the bed. There was no sign of the Prince.

"Arthur?"

Merlin breathed out slowly to try to release the tension in his chest.

"Arthur, are you still here?"

He moved further into the room, looking along its length and seeing no one. Surely Arthur wouldn't have woken and left the room so quickly. Surely he wouldn't have done something that stupid. But if he had...

"I'll kill him," Merlin muttered, walking cautiously towards the book he could see lying open upon the floor by the far edge of the bed.

A flurry of movement to his right caught his eye and he only had a split second to steel himself before the pillows from Arthur's bed began to pummel him about his head. He ducked and stepped forward, tripped as the rug pulled itself out from underneath his feet and fell forwards onto his stomach. It was then he saw the Prince sitting on the floor near the window.

Merlin gave him a quick assessing glance and then turned his attention away, struggling to his feet and brushing down his clothes with his hands.

"Thanks for the warm welcome," he said, still not looking at the Prince.

"Thanks for the death threat," Arthur muttered in response.

Merlin allowed a small smile to form on his lips. "Any time. How's your head?"

"Considering the circumstances, Merlin," Arthur drawled, looking up at his manservant for the first time, "I'd say my head is the least of my worries."

Merlin looked down at Arthur. The Prince looked the picture of dejection. He was sitting with his back up against the wall, his knees raised and his arms resting on them limply. Dark circles were prominent around his eyes, despite his long sleep, and his lips were pressed into a tight, thin line.

"What does my father know?" Arthur's voice sounded hollow and dazed.

Merlin shook his head. "Nothing. He thinks you're ill, that's all. Gaius told him it's something contagious, so you don't have to worry about any visitors."

Arthur let his head hang low. "You're both putting yourselves in danger by hiding this from him," he said, his tone firm. "You need to tell him the truth."

"And what's that?" Merlin asked quickly.

Arthur looked up at him, seemingly lost for an answer. "That you saw me using magic," he said eventually, the words sounding surreal to both sets of ears.

Merlin gave a crooked smile. "We're not going to do that," he said determinedly, before crouching down on the floor and starting to gather the battered books into his arms. "What happened here, then?"

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but the truth was still a bit of a mystery to him and he gave up trying to put it into words. "I'm sorry," he said instead.

Merlin shrugged and heaved a stack of books up onto the writing desk near where Arthur still sat. "Not to worry. I don't think any of them are badly damaged."

As he picked up more of the books, smoothing out pages and bending the spines back into shape, Merlin grew more and more ill at ease. There was so much that both of them needed to be saying and yet silence had settled over them like a smothering blanket. Arthur seemed utterly defeated and Merlin realised with a shock that he had absolutely no idea how to talk to this Arthur; he barely even recognised him.

With occasional glances over his shoulder at the Prince, Merlin finished collecting up the books and tried to summon up some courage from somewhere. When all the books had been rescued and he had run out of excuses, Merlin perched himself on the edge of the bed and threw caution to the wind.

"We need to talk about this," he announced assertively.

"I know." Arthur was quiet and resigned.

"So, has anything like this happened before?"

"No. Of course not."

"So last night was the first time you..."

"Used magic?" Arthur supplied, his voice still a disturbing monotone. "Yes."

Merlin shook his head in wonder, suddenly full of curiosity. "But how did you do it? I mean, did you _try_ to do it? Did you have to think about it to make it happen?"

Arthur looked across at Merlin. "You mean throttling you? Merlin, I'm nearly always thinking about throttling you."

Merlin's face broke into a smile at the unexpected humour. "Yeah, so was anything different last night when you actually got to live out the fantasy?"

Arthur shook his head. "I was just angry. It wasn't even you I was angry with. But I just...I can feel it inside me, Merlin. It's kind of...humming."

"Humming?"

"I know it doesn't make any sense." Arthur ran a hand back through his hair. "But it's always there, in the background, and then when I'm angry or annoyed it just jumps out and does whatever it wants."

"Or what _you_ want," Merlin amended.

Arthur thought about this for a second and then let out a deep sigh. "I suppose so. What am I going to do?"

"We need to find out what's causing it, and then maybe we can fix it."

"Like what? What could be _causing_ it?"

Merlin shrugged. "Maybe you're under a spell? Has anyone given you anything that could have been enchanted? Have you noticed anything different in your chambers; anything that might have been meddled with?"

Arthur shook his head at Merlin's barrage of questions. "No, I don't think so."

"Did _anything_ unusual happen while I was away? Anything at all?"

"No. Believe it or not, Merlin, I'm quite capable of looking after myself without you there to hold my hand."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "And yet, here we are!"

The words were barely out of his mouth before a solid thump met his chest and he was thrown backwards, toppling over the side of the bed to land in an undignified heap on the other side. He struggled up onto his knees and glared accusingly across the bed at Arthur who was still sitting against the wall.

"_That_ was unnecessary."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, one corner of his mouth hitched into a small smile. "Sorry," he said blithely. "Didn't mean to."

Merlin clambered to his feet and walked back around the bed, sorely tempted to use a little magic of his own on the mighty sorcerer. And that brought him to a question he'd been avoiding but needed to know the answer to.

"The other night," he began, nonchalantly resuming his position on the edge of the bed. "When you tried to kill me, do you remember how it ended?"

Arthur blanched at Merlin's choice of words, having the decency to look ashamed, but then shook his head. "I just remember you...up there. I don't remember thinking anything, really. Then I woke up in my bed. Why?"

Merlin shook his head. "Just wondering."

He'd been nearly positive that Arthur had been in no state to notice the whispered spell which had freed him and let him drop to the floor, but he'd needed to hear confirmation of his suspicion from Arthur's own mouth to rest easy. One less thing to worry about.

"What if you hadn't been there?" Arthur asked, drawing Merlin from his thoughts. "What if I'd gone down and confronted my father? Since I found out about Morgana being his daughter, I can hardly even look at him. If I'd gone down to speak to him last night it would have been him choking for breath...or worse."

"You don't know that for sure," Merlin murmured.

"Yes, I do," Arthur said, his voice calm and measured. "And I'm not even sure I care."

Merlin's brow creased into a frown. "Arthur, these dreams you've been having..."

"They're not dreams," Arthur corrected, forcefully. "I just go to sleep and then I wake up knowing."

"But..."

"Enough, Merlin!" Arthur snapped, his head in his hands and seemingly unaware of the bitter chill that had just flooded the room. "That's enough."

"All right," Merlin said, trying his best to sound calm and reassuring. "You must be hungry. How about I get you something to eat?"

Arthur muttered a thank you that was barely audible and Merlin rose to his feet.

"I won't be long."

"Merlin."

The warlock paused and turned to face the Prince.

"I'm sorry for what happened. You must believe that I would never intentionally do something like that. I'm ashamed of what I did to you and I want to tell you it won't happen again, but..." Arthur's words were spilling from his mouth too quickly and his eyes shone brightly. "I can't stop myself and I'm scared that..."

"No, you're not," Merlin cut in quickly, as much to convince himself as anything. "You're Arthur. You're not scared of anything."

At the almost childlike confidence in Merlin's voice Arthur let out a short gasp that was nearly a laugh. He looked up at his servant and found himself having to clench his jaw to stop it trembling. "Well," he managed, his voice unsteady, "I'm scared of this."

Merlin felt a chill run down his spine. He let out a low breath then closed the gap between him and Arthur in a few long strides.

"Come on," he said briskly, holding out a hand to the Prince. "Up."

Arthur looked up at him for a moment, his eyes still watery and bright, then took the hand offered to him and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Merlin took him by the shoulders and pushed him towards a chair by the fire, picking up a blanket from the bed as they went.

When Arthur was seated in the chair with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Merlin bent over and put a hand on either of the armrests, his face level with Arthur's.

"_I_ am going to get you something to eat. _You _are going to sit here by the fire and wait for me to do the work...just for a change. You'll feel better once you've eaten. Then we're going to sit down with Gaius – he'll be back any time soon – and we're going to work out what we're going to do to fix this.

"One day you're going to look back at this and say: 'Remember that time I had magic and I choked you half to death? That was fun, wasn't it, Merlin?' And then you'll be a total prat and make me muck out your horses and climb to the top of the highest tower to polish the flagpole or something stupid like that, and life will be wonderful again. All right?"

Merlin raised his eyebrows as high as they could go and nodded encouragingly at Arthur, who didn't seem to be able to help nodding back.

"All right," he conceded.

Merlin stood up straight, pleased with that result. "Good. Now, stay put...and try to do something about the temperature in this room, will you? I'm not asking for summer, but something a little better than icy would be nice."

Arthur did his best to make his face form a smile. "I'll see what I can do."

Merlin nodded and made for the door. Once he had slipped out and closed it behind him he felt the strength leave his legs and he sank down onto his haunches, his head in his hands. That was twice now he had told Arthur they would find a way to 'fix' this situation. Sometime soon he was going to have to face the fact that he didn't have any idea how to do that...or even if it _could_ be fixed.


	7. Enter, Gwen

**A/N: This chapter is a little bit shorter than it was going to be, but I had to split the one I was writing into two because it was getting away from me! It is a pretty light-hearted section, but you could think about it as the light before the storm, because soon it will all be hitting the proverbial fan.**

**Thanks once again for the lovely reviews. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. **

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Chapter 7. Enter Gwen

Gaius looked up from his work to see a dishevelled-looking Merlin walking through the door.

"What are you doing here?"

Merlin shook his head and walked quickly across the room, shrugging his shirt off as he went.

"That cot they put in Arthur's room may as well be made of stone," he grumbled, taking the stairs to his room in two strides. "I hardly slept. I needed to come and at least change my clothes before I had to put up with the cranky royal wizard again."

Gaius' mouth twitched into a smile as he turned back to his book and flipped through a couple of pages.

"And did Arthur sleep any better than you?" he called out.

"No." There were a few dull, thumping noises from Merlin's room and then he emerged, wearing a clean shirt. "I know he says they aren't dreams, but _something_ was disturbing his sleep. He was crying out in the middle of the night."

Gaius frowned and closed the book. "Did he tell you what caused it?"

"I thought we could do without anymore 'revelations' right now, so I might have said just a _little_ spell to help him sleep," Merlin admitted. "The 'dreams' didn't seem to bother him after that."

Gaius nodded his approval. "This _knowledge_ that's coming to him while he sleeps is very dangerous. Whoever is sending it to him wouldn't be going to the trouble if they didn't have a reason to."

Merlin perched on the edge of the work bench. "Do you think it's linked to the magic he's using?"

"I think it would be a safe assumption," Gaius murmured, crossing the room and picking up a book Merlin didn't remember having seen before. "Originally I thought it could be something akin to Morgana's nightmares, but last night I read this."

Gaius opened the book to a page marked with a thin red ribbon. "It talks of an ancient form of magic where a connection is made between two people, one being the sorcerer and the other his victim. It allows the sorcerer to feed information to his sleeping victim in such a way that it passes from the victim's unconscious to his conscious thought without him knowing how it got there. It can be a very subtle way to exercise control over someone without their knowledge."

Merlin's eyes widened and he scanned the pages quickly. "Do you think Morgana is capable of something like this?"

"Morgana? No," Gaius murmured. "It is far too powerful a magic for Morgana to be able to command. It would take a formidable sorcerer to be able to carry this off successfully."

"Like Morgause."

Gaius nodded slowly. "Like Morgause," he agreed. "She has the magical ability and Morgana to supply the information she needs."

Merlin rubbed his eyes. "So Morgana told Morgause that she's Uther's daughter and Morgause is sending that knowledge to Arthur. But why would she be doing that? Surely it's better for her and Morgana if Arthur doesn't find out about Morgana being his half-sister?"

"I would have thought so, too," Gaius agreed. "They're losing an advantage by forewarning Arthur."

"And it still doesn't tell us how Arthur came by this magic," Merlin added.

"No. I spent much of the night reading and I still haven't come across anything that would explain Arthur's magic. And without an explanation, we have no cure."

Merlin looked over at the table at the other side of the room which held the belongings they had taken from Arthur's room yesterday afternoon. The three of them had spent a couple of hours going through Arthur's things and looking for anything that may have held an enchantment.

"Any luck with them?" he asked.

Gaius waved a hand at them in a dismissive gesture. "I couldn't find anything. Perhaps you want to try?"

Merlin slipped off the bench and walked towards the pile of ceremonial jewellery, gifts and weaponry. Arthur hadn't been too bothered to see the jewellery go but had kicked up enough of a fuss about the weapons to necessitate Merlin grabbing a shield to fend off the cups that had launched themselves in his direction. Merlin rubbed the spot on his head where one had made it through. The whole flying cups thing was getting a bit old.

He surveyed the pile and then straightened his stance, raising a hand towards them.

"_Ríceiu æfterielda en déop ic bebodes __ðu __wiðertrodes."_

After a moment or two, all of the objects still looked exactly as they'd always done. He turned to Gaius and shrugged.

"I don't think there's anything there."

Gaius nodded resignedly. "I didn't think so. Now, I have to see Uther and _you_ should be getting back to Arthur. It isn't safe to leave him alone for too long."

Merlin let his head fall back and emitted a long groan. "I know. I'm going. But if he throws one more thing at me I'm going to throw something back."

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Arthur was still sleeping when Merlin walked back into his rooms. For a moment it was easy for Merlin to slip back into their usual routine. He walked across to the windows and flung the curtains open with a flourish.

"Rise and shine."

The Prince rolled over without even opening an eye and turned his back on Merlin and the bright morning light. Merlin sighed and walked over to the bed.

"Come on, we need to get back to work trying to figure this out," he encouraged.

When he still received no response, Merlin reached out a hand to shake Arthur. His hand had only just settled on his shoulder, however, when the curtains which hung around Arthur's bed untied themselves and flew closed with enough force to knock Merlin backwards.

Sitting on the floor, Merlin looked up at the bed which was now completely enclosed. He pursed his lips tightly and took a moment to calm himself down before he did anything else. Trying to deal with Arthur Pendragon these days was like being servant to someone with the attitude of a teenager and the self-control of a two year old. In some respects, Merlin reflected, that wasn't much of a change from usual, but at least he'd been able to see Arthur winding up to throw something at him before he got this magic. With a deep sigh, Merlin lifted himself off the floor.

"You know, Arthur," he spat, pulling one of the hangings aside brusquely. "I know I said I wasn't going to turn you in to your father, but right now the idea of watching you burn at the stake isn't _entirely_ unappealing."

Arthur turned over onto his back and squinted up at Merlin. "If I go, I'm taking you with me, Merlin," he snapped. "For conspiracy to conceal a sorcerer."

He glared up at his servant but when, after a few moments, Merlin was still standing with arms folded, glaring right back at him, Arthur groaned and pulled back the covers.

"Fine. I'm getting up."

Merlin nodded briefly then turned to pour the Prince a drink, before setting out the water and cloths for him to wash.

"Merlin," Arthur began after a moment.

Merlin turned to see Arthur standing near his bed, the cup still halfway to his mouth and his forehead creased into a frown.

"You remember when Morgause tried to trick me with that image of my mother?"

Alarm bells started ringing furiously inside Merlin's head. He directed his attention back to his task and tried to keep his tone casual. "Yes."

"I've been wondering," Arthur continued. "What if it wasn't a trick?"

"What would make you think that?" Merlin asked, quietly.

Arthur shrugged. "I don't know. Last night I..." he pulled up short and shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Merlin could practically _feel _Arthur working his way through the fog in his mind to retrieve the knowledge Morgause must have been trying to get through to him last night before Merlin cast his spell. He turned to face him and found he had to work hard to force a smile onto his face. "It won't do you any good to dwell on it," he heard himself saying, somewhat inanely. "Besides, your father said..."

Arthur snorted with harsh laughter. "Actually, Merlin, my father's word isn't holding all that much weight with me, right now."

Merlin nodded and decided distraction would be his best idea right now. "I'll get you a fresh bed-shirt and britches," he announced, walking towards the chest of drawers. "You're starting to stink."

"Why can't I get properly dressed?" Arthur asked in annoyance, pulling his shirt over his head and turning to the bowl of water. "I'm sick of lounging around."

Relieved at the change in conversation, Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur. "You're supposed to be sick, remember? If anyone comes in you need to be ready to look like you're at death's door."

"Considering I'm highly likely to knock them over the head with a chamber pot before they've even laid eyes on me, I'm not sure that's really a problem," Arthur countered. "And while we're talking about it, I'm not going to be able to avoid seeing people for very much longer, am I? What am I supposed to do with all this magic going on at random moments?"

"Well, I hardly think it's 'random'," Merlin said, holding out Arthur's clean shirt for him to put on.

"What do you mean?"

Merlin laughed. Trust Arthur to need the obvious explained to him. "Your magic," he said patiently, "well, it's all got to do with your feelings, hasn't it?"

"_Feelings_?" Arthur sneered, as he sat to pull on his socks. "Merlin, _girls_ have feelings_._"

"Well, _you_ seem to be full of them," Merlin muttered.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Merlin sighed and pulled up a chair opposite Arthur. "Think about it. Every time you've used magic, it's been when you've had strong feelings about something. Somewhat predictably, it's usually anger, but there have been other things too."

When Arthur didn't respond, Merlin continued on. "The flying objects, the red light, the choking your faithful servant; they all happened when you were angry. Burning Gaius' finger and shutting the curtains on me were when you were annoyed. The room turned absolutely freezing when you were worrying about this whole situation yesterday."

Arthur nodded, silently adding to the list the incident yesterday where he'd been so disgusted with himself that he'd pelted himself with books. "So, it's not the magic that's completely out of control, it's my feelings," he summarised, sounding anything but pleased.

"They might me a little highly strung right now," Merlin conceded. "But they're not out of control. It's just that whenever you feel strongly about something the magic acts on it whether you want it to or not."

Arthur let out a long sigh. "My head hurts."

Merlin got to his feet. "Gaius left something yesterday in case you needed it."

Arthur watched as Merlin retrieved the tincture and then downed it in one as soon as it was passed to him. Once he'd handed the small jar back to Merlin he let his body slump back in his chair and gazed up at the ceiling.

"I wish I could go outside," he sighed after a moment. "I'd feel better if I could go hunting."

Merlin couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips. "Yeah, you with a spear. That sounds like a great idea right now." Merlin put on his best 'Arthur' voice: "'Merlin, you just tripped over and scared our prey away, you idiot. Merlin? _Mer_lin? Why are you lying around with a spear through your stomach?'"

Arthur barked with laughter in spite of himself.

"So you can forget that," Merlin grinned. "I'm not letting you near anything that pointy."

Arthur kept his head tipped back and closed his eyes. "It'd be so good to be outside, though, instead of couped up in here. Some fresh air, the sun on our faces, wind blowing..."

"Arthur?"

He pulled his head back up and opened his eyes. The entire floor or his chambers was covered in grass.

"Damn."

Merlin chuckled and shook his head. "You'd better be able to get rid of this. Try thinking angry thoughts about grass and see what happens."

Arthur scowled in return for Merlin's smirk. "Why don't you make yourself useful, Merlin, and go get me something to eat?"

Merlin pushed himself upright from his spot leaning against the post of Arthur's bed. "What do you fancy?" he asked, still grinning from ear to ear.

Arthur thought for a second and then his eyes settled on a spot just behind Merlin. Frowning, Merlin turned and nearly jumped in shock when he saw a deer standing in the middle of the room, its big eyes watchful but apparently unconcerned by its sudden arrival in the castle. He looked back at Arthur who was still staring at the deer with a face expressionless other than for slightly raised eyebrows.

"I'm guessing...venison?" Merlin asked.

Arthur groaned and sat forward to rest his head in his hands. "This is ridiculous."

Merlin swatted at the deer as it made a move to nibble Arthur's bed sheets and then began edging towards the door. "Well, I won't be long."

Arthur leapt to his feet. "Merlin! What do you think you're doing? You can't leave me here like this. There is a _deer_ in my _chambers_," he exclaimed.

Merlin shrugged and took another step towards the door. "What do you want _me_ to do about it?"

"Get rid of it!" Arthur shouted.

"Your magic deer – your problem," Merlin said, holding up his hands and shaking his head.

"Merlin," Arthur began, walking quickly towards Merlin, watched all the while by the large eyed doe which was now grazing near the bed. "Do I need to remind you that you are my servant and, therefore, my problems are your problems?"

Merlin tried to take another step towards the door but found his feet being pulled out from under him. In seconds he was hanging upside down in the air, his head about two feet from the ground.

"Arthur, this isn't funny!"

"Oh? A moment ago you seemed to be finding it all rather amusing, Merlin," Arthur protested.

That was when the door opened.

"Hello? I know I shouldn't be here but I..."

"Guinevere!"

The next moment Gwen screamed, Merlin tumbled to a relatively comfortable landing on the turf, the deer bolted across the room and Arthur felt his stomach sink into his socks.

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**More to come really soon. Thanks for reading!**


	8. Love Blooms, Danger Looms

**A/N: As Morgana starts making her way into the story, I thought it might be worth reminding people that this story is set immediately following Season 3, Episode 5, so Morgana knows she's Uther's daughter but she **_**doesn't**_** know about Arthur and Gwen. **

**Thanks for the reviews, they really do mean a lot to me. And thanks so much for reading. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

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Chapter 8. Love Blooms, Danger Looms

"So," Gwen began, her fingers worrying against each other on her lap and her eyes looking across at Arthur from under thick lashes, "what you're saying is that you've _somehow_ been given magic and you don't have any control over what it does?"

Arthur, sitting directly opposite her, nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when Gwen held up one hand.

"Only Gaius and Merlin knew," Gwen continued in a low voice, "and they've told the King that you have a contagious illness so that you can stay shut away while they try and work out how to fix it."

"That's..." Merlin stopped speaking upon a quick, pursed-lip glare from Gwen.

"But they have no idea how they're actually going to fix it because they don't know what's causing it," she finished.

Arthur waited a few beats. "Can I talk now?"

"Arthur," Gwen cried, getting up from her seat abruptly. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? You two are sitting here talking about it like it's nothing! It's not nothing. There is a _deer _over there eating your curtains!"

Arthur had leapt to his feet when Gwen did and now he took her hands in his. "Guinevere, listen to me. I know just how dangerous this is and, believe me, we aren't taking this lightly. I don't even want to think about what will happen if my father finds out, especially if he finds out you all knew and hid it from him. But there's nothing to be gained from panicking over it."

Leaning back on the bed, Merlin laughed. "You really don't want to see Arthur panicking right now, Gwen."

Arthur threw a scowl over his shoulder at Merlin. "Thank you, _Mer_lin."

He turned back to Gwen but was again interrupted by Merlin, who was still laughing. "I mean, she'd need a helmet for starters!"

Arthur let Gwen's hands drop and turned to face Merlin. "Merlin, weren't you just leaving to get me something to eat?"

Merlin looked a little confused. "But, you told me I had to stay..."

"Well, now I'm telling you to go," Arthur said slowly.

Rolling his eyes, Merlin hopped off the bed. "Fine." He leant in close to Gwen as he walked past the pair and lowered his voice dramatically. "If you need it, there's a shield over there on the table."

He nimbly dodged the backhanded blow Arthur aimed at his head and headed for the door. Once he was gone, Arthur turned back to Gwen.

"I'm sorry about this, Guinevere," he murmured. "I really am. I didn't want you to know the truth – it just puts you in danger."

Gwen shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm not worried about that. I'm just worried about you."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her not to be, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to say it. "I'm sure Gaius will find a cure," he said instead, trying to fake some confidence.

"But this is _magic_, Arthur. It's dangerous."

Arthur could hear the fear in her voice. They'd both grown up knowing magic was not to be trusted and that those who practiced it were treacherous and disloyal. He wanted to try to explain to her how natural it felt and how honest. He wanted to tell her that, rather than being the foul and corrupt assault upon nature that his father had always told him it was, the magic flowing through him felt astonishingly pure...innocent, even. But he was having a hard enough time understanding it himself, and he was the one experiencing it. It would be too much for Gwen. Instead, he nodded in agreement, the sight of her tearful eyes doing funny things to his insides.

"It's all going to be fine," he assured her. "They're more like tricks than magic, anyway."

Gwen looked sceptical but still managed a thin smile. They were standing very close together and it was with only a small movement that Gwen moved into his arms. Her hands were flat against his chest and Arthur found it so natural to slip his arms around her, one hand on her back and the other resting on her hip. It was as though they'd always done it, and always would.

"Promise me you'll be careful," she said softly.

"I'll do my best," he answered, resting one cheek against the top of her head.

She pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, looking into his eyes as if she was going to find some truth there beyond what was spoken. Eventually she seemed satisfied and smiled, touching him lightly on his cheek.

"So, what kind of 'tricks' can you do...apart from hanging Merlin upside down?"

Arthur smiled and gave a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, you know, just things like..." his voice trailed off as he looked around. "Like this, apparently," he sighed, with a wave of his arm.

Gwen looked around the room, her eyes widening by the second. Vines were bursting into life all around them, growing up every chair and table leg, framing every window, and on each one brilliant flowers of pink and yellow and red were blossoming into life, growing from buds into full blossoms in seconds. Gwen gasped and turned to Arthur with a dazed smile on her face.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, delighted.

Arthur couldn't help but smile at her joyous expression and suddenly more and more flowers erupted from the stems, and the light in the room turned hazy and warm, like a late afternoon in summer. From somewhere on the far side of the room a lark broke into song.

A blush rising on Arthur's cheeks, he dropped his head. "I'm sorry about this," he laughed in embarrassment.

Gwen giggled as a pair of butterflies fluttered past, dancing around each other as they made their way across the room. "Don't be," she said softly.

"It's...the magic just does whatever it wants," Arthur tried to explain. "However I feel."

Gwen looked up at him. "So this is how you feel?" she managed to ask.

Arthur smiled down at her upturned face, warm and glowing in the magical summer light and he didn't think he'd ever seen her look so beautiful. Suddenly, to his left, the covers on the bed recently made by Merlin flung themselves back and the pillows fluffed themselves up invitingly. Mortified, Arthur let out a strangled cough and raised a hand to half cover his face. He couldn't even look at Gwen and his agony was intensified when she let out a laugh.

"Maybe I'll be needing that shield, after all," she muttered mirthfully.

Arthur groaned and looked out from between his fingers. "I am really, _really_ sorry."

The sound of the utter mortification in Arthur's voice coupled with the sight of him standing there with his hand still over his face, a pair of brightly marked butterflies dancing around his head, was too much for Gwen and she laughed so hard she could feel tears stinging her eyes. Arthur laughed in spite of himself and the deer munched contentedly on a cluster of red roses.

* * *

"Merlin!"

Intent upon carrying the plates of food safely along the corridor without dropping anything, Merlin hadn't noticed Gaius walking towards him. Now, as they closed the last few yards which lay between then, he noticed for the first time just how tired the physician was looking.

"I've just been speaking to Uther," Gaius murmured as he came to a stop before the young warlock, his tone low and confidential. "This won't work much longer. He's growing more and more worried about Arthur and it won't be long before he insists on seeing him, regardless of the consequences."

"We can't let that happen," Merlin insisted in a low hiss. "This morning Arthur was talking about Morgause and the time she showed him Ygraine. I think that was what was disturbing him last night."

"So Morgause is trying to convince him of the circumstances of his birth?" Gaius asked. "But she has tried to show him the truth about that before."

"And look how well it worked!" Merlin exclaimed in an excited whisper. "He came so close to killing Uther then. Just think what would happen now he has this magic he can't control."

Gaius raised one hand to his forehead as though it pained him. "Then we must find a solution," he sighed. For the last two days and nights he had been scouring every book, scrutinising every resource he could find, in the search for the answers they needed, and the strain and exhaustion were beginning to take their toll.

Merlin reached out and put a hand on his mentor's arm in a comforting gesture. "I really appreciate all you're doing, Gaius. Arthur does too, and he doesn't know the half of it. We'll find the answer and fix this. I know we will."

Gaius smiled at the eternal optimist standing before him. "Speaking of Arthur," he chided gently. "Shouldn't you be with him now?"

A mischievous smile spread across Merlin's face as he nodded and took a few steps along the corridor. "I'm going there now. But there's no rush – Gwen's with him."

"Gwen?" Gaius cried, turning to look at the boy as he walked past him. "What's she doing there? Does she know?"

Merlin turned to grin at him as he continued walking. He nodded his head thoughtfully. "I think the deer might have given it away."

"The _what_?"

Merlin gave a short laugh and turned to walk purposefully along the corridor, envisaging Gaius' stunned face as he watched him go.

* * *

Merlin was nearly at Arthur's room. The smile had faded from his face and he was thinking about what Arthur had said earlier, about his feelings being out of control. Merlin had assured him that wasn't the case, but there was something to it. The morose contemplation the growing knowledge about Morgana's parentage had brought on, the incensed fury at Sir Cenwig's disgrace, the disgust which drove him close to self-loathing when he first found out about his magic, they had all been so intense, so unlike _Arthur_. Merlin knew he felt things strongly, but he was a warrior. He put his feelings into action, controlled them and, whenever necessary, subdued them, in order to be the Prince and warrior he was expected to be. He very rarely indulged them...until now.

Turning the corner into the corridor which would lead him to Arthur's chambers, Merlin was snapped forcefully from his thoughts by the sight of Morgana walking slowly along the corridor towards him. She seemed startled at first and Merlin thought he read confusion in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant and her usual cold glare settled over her face.

Merlin glanced from Morgana, to Arthur's door, and back again. His heart was beating a little faster but he kept walking at a steady pace. Morgana's eyes were fixed on him, her lips puckered into a tight, cunning smile, but as they drew nearer each other she remained silent. It wasn't until they were just about to pass each other that she spoke.

"You might want to knock before you go in there, Merlin," she said smoothly. "Love seems to be blooming in the enchanted grotto."

And with that she was past him, walking confidently off along the corridor, her steps elegant and measured. Merlin could hear the blood pounding past his ears. All but dropping his tray on the ground in his haste to be rid of it, he rushed the last ten yards to Arthur's room and swung the door open.

The room was full of life. Radiant flowers hung from thick, leafy vines which covered nearly every surface. The warm, hazy air was like a whisper on your skin, gentle and inviting. In one corner the deer still stood, peering over at Merlin with deep, dark eyes. And sitting close together on a lush green blanket of grass, she with flowers tucked into her hair and he with eyes only for her, where Gwen and Arthur.

It took a moment for them to see him there in the doorway, and when they did they both startled, Gwen's hands going self-consciously to her adorned hair and her teeth biting gently on her bottom lip. But Arthur, although looking slightly abashed and with a rosy glow to his cheeks, managed to fix Merlin with steady, slightly roguish, gaze. It was more than Merlin could take.

Closing the door quickly behind him, Merlin dropped into the nearest verdant chair and let his head drop to his hands.

"Arthur, what have you done?" he all but moaned, Morgana's cold and calculating eyes emblazoned on his mind.

She had seen Arthur's magic at work. She'd found out about Arthur and Gwen's feelings for each other.

As if she didn't already have enough power at her command, they'd now given her all the information she could possibly need to put the final nail in their coffin.


	9. Confusion

**A/N: It's been a little quiet on the review front lately, so I hope I haven't lost you! Hopefully people are reading along and enjoying but not wanting to review – which is cool! Just as long as the story is enjoyable :) **

**Morgana is going to be a lot more involved in the story from here on in. I've had a problem with the one-dimensional way 'Evil Morgana' has been dealt with in season 3 and so, while she's still 'evil' in my story, it's a little bit more 'reasonable' evil than just evil for evil's sake, if that makes sense.**

**Thanks for reading**

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Chapter 9. Confusion

Gaius looked across at Merlin for a long time, both silent as he took in the news Merlin had just relayed to him.

"And they don't know she saw them?" he asked eventually.

Merlin shook his head. "They think I was just angry about the state of the room and the trouble it could cause," he said slowly. "I didn't know what else to tell them. If I let them know Morgana saw them and the room it brings up the whole issue of _Morgana's_ magic and then..."

Gaius leant forward and spoke with urgency. "Merlin, you must keep this from him. Arthur _must not_ learn about Morgana's magical ability right now. He is in turmoil as it is. I fear that if he finds out that Morgana has magic and is in league with Morgause we will not be able to hold him accountable for his actions."

Merlin nodded his head and then let it hang forward. He was at a loss. There were too many forces combining against them, too many secrets being pushed out into the daylight. His optimism had deserted him and he wasn't even trying to find a way out anymore. Fear and trepidation were all his mind could produce right now.

"We need to be prepared for the fact Morgana may well find a way to use Arthur and Gwen's relationship against them, now that she has seen the truth," Gaius murmured, deep in thought.

Merlin stood up and took a few restless paces across the room before turning back to Gaius. "All I keep thinking," he said, his hands reaching out before him in a questioning gesture, "is why hasn't Morgana gone straight to Uther? After what she's seen, with the evidence laid out there before her, why aren't we all locked up in the dungeons right now?"

* * *

Morgana stood at the window in her chambers, staring out at the city which lay before her. Her mind was whirling and she had to consciously focus on slowing it down, thinking things over calmly and analytically. Morgause had taught her that her emotions were to be subjugated, forced into the background so that reason and purpose could rule unopposed. She'd struggled with this to begin with but, as she became a better student, she had discovered how much easier it was to work towards their goal without the weakness of emotion clouding her judgement. Now it was second nature.

Even so, this situation was a challenge for her. She needed Morgause; her cool reasoning and guidance. But she was in discussions with Cenred and they would not be able to meet until tomorrow night in the forest. Until then, she would be left to ponder this alone.

Finding Arthur and Gwen sharing such adoring gazes had surprised her. It was with no small amount of annoyance that she wondered how she had not seen this before. How long had her 'brother' and her maid been involved in such an amorous relationship? How had she missed it?

But the thing that startled her most, that shocked her to the core, was the blatant and extravagant display of magic. Who had conjured the surreal summer-garden inside Arthur's chambers in which the lovers were so engrossed? Arthur and Gwen she ruled out immediately, though they might have been the most obvious choices. The idea of Arthur having the ability to create anything magical, let alone something so beautiful, was ridiculous, and Gwen was far too simple to have managed it. Neither of them had magic, of that Morgana was certain.

So, who did that leave? Merlin? The bumbling fool could hardly manage to walk without falling over, never mind exercising the skill to practice magic. Out of all the possibilities that ran through her mind, the only one that seemed anything other than laughable was Gaius, and she doubted that he would be tempted into such a reckless exhibition of magic even if he did have the ability.

Not knowing where the magic came from left her unsure of what action to take. Part of her suspected that Morgause would want her to go to Uther with what she had seen and further the work she had begun with Sir Cenwig. Implicating Arthur in the use of magic would firm her position with Uther and push Arthur to the outside, breaking irreparably the trust Uther had in his son. But it was dangerous to act without full knowledge, to jump into something she didn't understand.

She ran her hand over the brickwork of the window alcove and let the chill it emitted cool her. She would bide her time. Morgause would be waiting in the forest tomorrow night and she could speak to her then. She had thought that idea would give her comfort, but Morgana was aware of the unsettled feeling deep inside her.

It had been beautiful, watching Gwen and Arthur sitting together in their enchanted garden. Gwen had had a glowing, ethereal quality about her which was something more than Morgana had ever seen in her before, something delicate but enduring. She somehow looked more herself, freed from her subservient role and totally absorbed in the beauty around her and the man by her side. Arthur had personified pride and adoration, almost bringing a smile to Morgana's lips as she watched him playfully tucking a yellow bloom behind Gwen's ear. For a very long moment they had been her friends again and she was delighted with her discovery. That feeling had been overcome but something of it lingered and she realised a part of her was loath to do anything to corrupt the innocence of what she'd witnessed.

Even as she battled against these feelings, a persuasive new thought was washing over her. Arthur had been so at ease with the magic around him, so comfortable. She and Morgause were fighting to free Camelot from the tyranny of Uther's reign, and she had always assumed that would mean fighting against Arthur as well. But maybe he could be persuaded. Maybe he wasn't the enemy to magic she had thought him to be. The very thought felt almost treacherous and she suspected she knew what Morgause's reaction would be. But she found herself unwilling to give up on the chance that freedom might be a step closer than they had thought.

Conflicted and unsure, Morgana stayed by the window for some time, Morgause's conviction in the need for outright warfare battling with the image of the peaceful magic she'd witnessed within the walls of this very castle, the bastion against the existence of magic itself.

* * *

Night had fallen and the lamps were lit across the lower town. Merlin sat in the chair he'd pulled up to the window and looked out at the scene before him. He couldn't sleep. Every time Arthur stirred in his bed Merlin cringed in expectation, wondering if at that moment, Morgause was feeding him ideas, pictures of realities he was better off not knowing. He thought of Gaius, sitting alone in his room, scanning through books that were probably going to be of no help and preparing the next treasonous lie he would need to tell the King. He thought of Gwen and wondered if she was lying awake worrying about Arthur and his magic and their future. And all the while, in the background of every thought he had, murmured that anxious voice which wouldn't stop asking what Morgana was up to and why she hadn't yet made her move.

The knock on the door startled him but his nerves calmed when Gaius slipped through the door. Merlin stood to meet him and, after a quick glance to check Arthur was still sleeping, he walked with Gaius to the far end of the chambers.

They stood close together in the dark.

"I've just left Uther," Gaius murmured, keeping his voice as low as possible. "I've told him that Arthur is improving and that the quarantine will be able to be lifted after one more day."

Merlin opened his mouth to protest but Gaius shook his head and started speaking again firmly.

"This cannot continue, Merlin. Uther is concerned for his son. If we continue with this deception he will break the quarantine and come here to see Arthur against my advice. He has already suggested bringing in other physicians who might be able to find the cure that is 'eluding' me. If that happens, we will be exposed without a doubt. We have no choice. We cannot keep Arthur hidden away forever."

Merlin ran his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes hard with his fingers. "That's it then," he said, letting his hands fall to his sides. "Tomorrow Arthur and I are leaving the castle."

"Merlin! You can't seriously think running away is the answer to all this?"

"I'm not talking about running away," Merlin placated. "If Arthur is going to have to face his father – and the rest of Camelot – then he's going to have to be able to control his magic, at least until we find out how to free him of it. I'm going to take him somewhere out of the way and teach him how to keep it under control."

"Merlin, be reasonable," Gaius pleaded, worried by the fierce resolve he saw in the young man's eyes. "Leaving the castle is far too dangerous. And what makes you think Arthur will ever be able to control his magic?"

"I learnt how to," Merlin countered.

"But magic is part of you," Gaius reasoned. "It's different for Arthur – this magic has been forced upon him. It is not part of his very being as yours is to you."

"Is there a reason the pair of you are standing over here in the corner whispering about me?" Arthur's voice took them both by surprise, as did the fact that he was walking towards them, barefoot and bleary-eyed.

Gaius and Merlin exchanged nervous glances, worrying about how much of the conversation he had overheard.

"I'm sorry, Sire. We didn't mean to wake you," Merlin said.

Arthur's eyes narrowed at the use of the deferential title. "Merlin? What's going on?"

Satisfied that he would have been knocked out cold by a flying chair by now if Arthur had picked up on the discussion about his magic, Merlin decided to opt for a selective version of the truth.

"Gaius has had to tell your father the quarantine can be lifted the day after tomorrow," he explained. "And we're not any closer to finding out how to fix the...problem."

Arthur folded his arms over his chest and nodded acceptingly. "This plan was never going to work for long," he agreed.

Merlin watched as the Prince furrowed his brow. He was tackling this problem like he did a military one, thinking it through strategically. The realisation filled Merlin with new hope that his plan would work and a smile found his lips while he wondered just how he was going to set about getting them both safely out of the castle in the morning.

* * *

"I'm going to have to speak to my father about replacing every single one of those guards," Arthur muttered in disgust, as his horse trotted alongside Merlin's.

Merlin looked to his side and saw Arthur pulling at the neckline of his tunic in annoyance. The Prince had been disgusted by the coarse and worn clothes Merlin had brought him to wear and only marginally less dismayed when he saw the 'poor excuse for a horse' he was expected to ride, insisting to Merlin that it would be more accurately described as a goat. To be fair on the guards, who had let them ride out unopposed, it was hard to see any hint of the gallant, dignified Arthur Camelot was used to seeing in the grubby peasant who rode by his side.

Smiling to himself, Merlin looked up ahead. It was almost like normal, the pair of them riding out like this, Arthur grumbling the whole time. If he tried hard enough he could begin to imagine they were out on a hunting trip, what with the washed-out glow of the winter sunrise lighting their way and the air of expectation hanging over them. But this was no hunting trip. Merlin saw the trail he was looking for approaching and urged his horse on.

"Come on," he called over his shoulder, in no small way enjoying Arthur's mutter of annoyance at Merlin being the one to call the shots.

* * *

Arthur was standing in the middle of the clearing. He had no weapon on him (Merlin had insisted that they brought none out of sheer self-preservation) but he looked for all the world as if he were preparing to take on a fearsome opponent in a battle to the death.

"Right," he said to Merlin, his face showing total concentration and his feet set apart in a steady stance. "Give me your best shot, Merlin."

The gasp of laughter that escaped Merlin's throat was not met with amusement.

"I thought that's what we were doing out here," Arthur snapped. "If I need to learn how to not let my anger and annoyance..."

"Your feelings, you mean?" Merlin teased.

"...and _irritation_," the Prince added, glaring at his manservant, "turn into magic, then you're going to have to make me angry which, luckily, you have a natural talent for."

"So, had Gwen made you _angry_ or _irritated_ when you decided to turn your chambers into a romantic garden retreat?"

Merlin had barely got the words out of his mouth before a clod of dirt hit his face trying to make its way in. Spiting a few blades of grass out of his mouth, Merlin looked across at Arthur with raised eyebrows, his displeasure obvious. "We're going for no magic here, remember?"

Arthur looked slightly abashed. "Yeah, sorry."

Merlin shook his head and used his fingers to fish something that felt disturbingly like a slug out of his mouth. "You know," he said after a moment, deciding to go straight for the jugular. "Gwen's a really lovely girl. I can understand why you like her."

Surprised by this sudden change in conversation, Arthur nodded and took a few steps towards Merlin, scuffing at the dirt with his feet.

"I mean, I know that time she told me how brave I was and that I was a hero to stick up to bullies like you..."

"When what?" Arthur asked sharply.

Merlin spared Arthur only a quick glance and then walked past him towards a plant he had a sudden and inexplicable interest in. "When she told me she thought I was brave," Merlin repeated, with a shrug. "And that time she kissed me, well, that was pretty good too."

Merlin crouched down to the ground to examine the plant and winced in anticipation, waiting for an assault of flying slugs.

"I could have you strung up for telling lies like that," Arthur said after a few long seconds. "But look, no magic."

Merlin swivelled around cautiously to look at him. There was a peculiar look on his face which was a mixture of anger and smugness. His arms were held out in a gesture meant to display his wonderful mastery of magic. But the most noticeable feature was something else.

Letting out a groan, Merlin stood up straight. "Arthur, you're green with envy."

"I am not," Arthur retorted. "I can recognise slander when I hear it. Guinevere has too much self respect to..."

Merlin shook his head in exasperation and cut Arthur off by walking up to him, picking up his hand and holding it up to his face. "Arthur," he repeated. "You are _green_ with envy."

Arthur focussed on his hand then let out a cry of shock. His skin had taken on a strange green tint and his fingernails were practically emerald. He frantically pushed up his sleeve then hitched up the awful tunic to inspect his torso. The effect was the same all over. With a growl of frustration, Arthur walked off towards a fallen log and sat himself down despondently.

Merlin smothered the amusement which had risen inside him and walked over towards the Prince.

"It's not that bad," he consoled, sitting down next to Arthur. "It'll fade soon, just like the wilderness in your chambers did."

"It's no good, Merlin," Arthur lamented. "I can't control this. It just happens. I don't even know where to start with trying to fight it."

Merlin jumped to his feet and stood in front of Arthur. "Listen, it's like this. The magic is there and you're going to have to learn to live with it until can find out how to get rid of it. But you _can_ control it. You're Prince Arthur. Self-control is part of what you're all about. When you went out to fight the Great Dragon you must have been scared, but you didn't let it stop you doing what you needed to do. How did you do that?"

Arthur looked up at Merlin and frowned. "You just put it to the back of your mind, I guess. Then you use that energy to help you fight, to think clearer, to move faster."

Merlin nodded enthusiastically. "And when you were cold and exhausted when we were looking for Morgana? Or when your father makes decisions you don't agree with but you can't do anything about? Do you see what I'm saying? You have to stay calm and focussed. You have to push your emotions to the back and do what needs done. Now get up and use that same discipline to get this situation under control!"

With that, the green Prince got to his feet and the two set to work with focussed intent, determined to pull the rogue magic into line.


	10. Control

**A/N: Apologies for the delay in this chapter. I had to go into hospital unexpectedly for surgery and that knocked me around for a few days. Now I'm on the mend and have plenty of time on my hands but it's hard to type when you're lying flat on your back! So if this chapter has a lot of mistakes, I'm blaming either the pain or the drugs!**

**This chapter has a bit of bonding and bromance and then the story should slip into another gear as secrets start to be uncovered. I hope you enjoy it. Please review if you have the time. Cheers. **

**

* * *

**Chapter 10 Control

Arthur gazed up at the sun. Thick clouds were being drawn across the sky like a blanket and soon the fine weather they had been blessed with would be at an end. He reached up and put both hands behind his head and wriggled to find a more comfortable position on the grass. They'd been working on controlling his magic for most of the day and had only just, by mutual agreement, decided to take a break.

It had not gone as well as they had hoped. It seemed to Arthur that the best he could manage was to control his emotions rather than the magic. His emotions he could feel building. He knew what triggered them and how to use them to his advantage. The magic, on the other hand, was like a stranger to him. It acted through him but almost independently. It was as though it fed on his emotions and then took matters into its own hands.

Merlin had seemed to have had an inordinately good time shouting rude comments at him ("Looking a little tubby there, Arthur! Do you have to work at been such a supercilious prat, or does it come naturally?"). He'd succeeded in provoking Arthur even more than usual and after Merlin had been pelted with branches, grass and mud time after time, Arthur had only noticed any moderation in his magical attacks when he tried to subdue his frustration and anger. Merlin had been right when he suggested it was like going into battle. He couldn't let his fear and anxiety get the better of him then, or he would be dead within minutes. As long as he used the same discipline now as he did in combat, he had some chance of restraining the magic.

That said, his small successes had been barely noticeable and they were both feeling somewhat dejected as they lay back upon the grass.

"Well, you've improved," Merlin said, trying his best to sound hopeful.

"Not enough."

"No," Merlin admitted. "Maybe running away isn't such a bad idea after all. Do you think it would be a problem if the Crown Prince just suddenly disappeared?"

Arthur turned to look at his manservant who lay next to him, covered from head to toe in mud and grass from his many uncontained outbursts. He screwed up his face thoughtfully then looked back up at the sky. "There's a chance someone might notice," he muttered dryly.

Merlin let out a deep sigh and reached out to pick a long stem of grass to chew on. "You might be right."

Silence fell upon them as they both thought over the predicament but, for once, Arthur was the one in a talkative mood.

"I ran away once."

Merlin turned his head to look at Arthur's profile. "You did?" he asked, laughter tickling his words. "How old were you?"

Arthur shrugged. "Eight? Nine, maybe? I'd had an argument with my father. I can't remember what it was about. Probably something I wasn't allowed to do – that was nearly always what we fought over. Anyway, I decided I'd leave and become a mercenary or train to be a knight in some other kingdom."

"At nine?" Merlin asked, before remember who he was talking with. "Of course you did."

"So I packed up a bag of things and left."

"Rebellious little Arthur, heading off alone into the wilderness!"

"Oh, I wasn't alone. I took a couple of servants with me."

Merlin shouted with laughter. "You took servants with you when you were running away from home? Arthur, you're hopeless."

Arthur smiled in reluctant agreement.

"So, how did your escape attempt end?" Merlin asked, propping his head up on one hand as he watched his master.

Arthur's smile grew wider. "My father found out, of course. He sent a group of knights out to find me."

"And you were brought back to him kicking and screaming," Merlin guessed.

"No. My father had ordered the knights to take my servants back to the castle and leave me out there. One of the knights, Sir Eadred, stayed near me but my father had told him not to help me in any way. He was just there to make sure I didn't get hurt and to bring me home when I gave in."

"How long did you last?"

"Two days," Arthur laughed. "It started to rain and I didn't know how to put up my tent."

"Was Uther furious when you got back?"

Arthur shook his head. "We never spoke of it. He'd won and we both knew it. There wasn't any point talking about it."

Silence fell over them again as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall. Without a word being spoken, a shimmering blue dome formed over them, reaching to just below the tops of the trees. As each raindrop fell onto it, it seemed to be drawn into the magic, and the rainwater swirled and twisted with the shining blue energy which made up the dome. Neither young man moved, instead lying perfectly still on their backs in the dry grass, watching the dome move fluidly above them.

"My father once said to me," Arthur began, his voice quiet and almost pained, "that all who practice magic know only evil, that they seek to destroy goodness wherever they find it."

He let the words hang in the air and Merlin could feel them settle heavily upon his chest.

"I know this magic isn't mine and whoever has given it to me is probably doing so to hurt me," he continued. "But however I came by it, I can't look upon it as evil. It's hard to explain and I know you won't understand, but I can feel this magic flow out of me and into the world and it's as natural as breathing."

Merlin closed his eyes as he listened to Arthur speak, biting his lower lip hard. He felt as if the truth would fly out of him if he opened his mouth even the tiniest bit and he had never wanted it to so badly.

"It hasn't changed me at all," Arthur continued. "I'm still exactly who I was. I'm not evil and I'm not an enemy of Camelot. My father would _never_ believe that. He doesn't believe it to be possible. But it is, and if it's true of me, how many others is it true of?"

Merlin breathed slowly and deliberately through his nose. Before they had left Camelot that morning, Gaius had pleaded with him not to tell Arthur that he too had magic. He'd argued that Arthur's reaction could not be predicted and that it would confuse their situation even further. Eventually, Merlin had made a reluctant promise. But now, even with the image of his mentor in his mind's eye and his own words of assurance ringing in his ears, it took all he had not to finally, _finally_ open up.

He wanted to shout out that he knew exactly what Arthur was saying. He wanted to tell Arthur how happy he was that he had learnt how beautiful and honest magic could be. But he stayed silent, his teeth drawing blood from his lower lip as he bit down, using every fibre of his being to hold his secret in. And as the seconds ticked by and his opportunity slipped slowly away from him, Merlin couldn't help but feel sick at the thought that he had betrayed Arthur in his effort to keep his vow to Gaius.

As a treacherous feeling rose in his throat like bile, Merlin realised he couldn't remain totally silent. With his tongue bound, he let his magic speak for him, whispering a few words almost silently, masked by the drumming of the raindrops. He looked up at the dome, his eyes flashed with gold and a sudden light broke through the clouds and hit the magical shield. As the two young men lay beneath and watched, Merlin's light met Arthur's water and splintered into a rainbow of colours which danced across the dome in great swirling strokes.

Merlin braved a quick glance at Arthur and saw his wide eyes gazing up at the dome, his lips curved into a smile. The warlock looked back up at the brilliant colours of their combined magic, his enjoyment of the moment tinged by Arthur's ignorance and the suspicion that one day soon he would regret his silence.

* * *

They rode towards Camelot with few words exchanged. Arthur seemed resolute and unnervingly composed. Merlin knew Arthur's meagre ability to control his magic would not be enough to hide his powers from anyone for long and that alone was enough to make him wonder how Arthur was facing their return to Camelot so calmly.

It wasn't until they rounded the corner in the path and saw the turrets of Camelot looming that Arthur spoke.

"When we get back to Camelot I need you to come with me to my chambers and wait there. I'm going to go and see my father and I want you to stay in my rooms until you are called for."

"What are you going to do?" Merlin almost didn't want to know.

"I'm going to tell my father the truth...some of it, anyway," Arthur announced. "I'm going to tell him that I'm under some kind of enchantment and magic is working through me. I am _not_ going to tell him that you, Gaius or Guinevere know anything about it. It's very important that when you and Gaius are questioned about it you both claim to know nothing. I'll make him think this has just come upon me and that I went to him as soon as I knew."

"It's too risky, Arthur," Merlin argued.

"It's our only option. We can't hide it from him any longer so our best option is the illusion of total honestly."

"What do you think he will do?"

Arthur didn't have an answer to his servant's quietly spoken question. "I really don't know."

They continued on and few noticed them as they made their way through the lower town. Those who did waved at Merlin but showed no interest in his hooded companion. All the while, Merlin fought with the feeling of impending doom which wouldn't leave him alone.

It was when they had cleared the town and were approaching the drawbridge that they saw trouble approaching. The sight of Uther standing with a group of knights sent a terrible thrill of excitement through Merlin and he threw Arthur a sidelong glance. The Prince had his head down, the hood of his coarse brown cloak falling well past his face.

When they were stopped by the guards Merlin thought he might vomit.

"We're searching everyone," one muttered, talking the reins of Merlin's horse. "What's your business in the castle?"

"I'm..." Merlin fought to keep the nervousness from his voice. "I'm Prince Arthur's servant."

"And your companion?"

"He's a friend of mine from my village. He's come to look for work," Merlin answered, thinking quickly. "What's going on here?"

"There's been some talk of Cenred sending in spies," the first guard explained. "King Uther's ordered tighter security."

Merlin nodded his understanding. "So, can we go?"

The guard they'd been talking to was in the process of waving them through when his partner, who had been watching Arthur carefully all the while, stepped forward.

"What village is it that you're from?" he asked, his voice low and curious.

"Ealdor," Merlin answered, "It's not far..."

"I was asking your friend here," the guard rumbled. "Hasn't he got a tongue in his head?"

Merlin noticed with horror Uther's eyes turning towards them, his attention drawn by the raised voice of the guard. His voice sounding unnaturally high pitched, Merlin tried to laugh it off.

"He's just shy."

"Shy, hey? What's your name, boy?"

Arthur finally spoke, his voice quiet and rough. "John. I'm just here looking for work."

"Let's see your face, John," the guard challenged, stepping towards Arthur and taking a hold of his arm.

Instinctively, Arthur shrugged it off roughly, causing the guard to stumble backwards, and that was enough for both guards to unsheathe their swords. Keeping his head low, Merlin dared another look towards Uther and saw that the confrontation now had his undivided attention.

"Get down from that horse, boy," the guard barked at Arthur.

All Merlin could do was watch it all go wrong. Arthur was dragged down from his horse at knife point. He fell heavily to the ground and his hood was wrenched back from his head. The guard stepped back, his mouth agape. Uther was upon them.

"Arthur!"

* * *

The silence was overpowering. There were too many people in present in the Throne Room for such a heavy stillness. Merlin, standing behind Arthur and to his right, looked around at the gathered company. Sir Leon was standing amid a group of four other knights, the ones who had been with Uther when he and Arthur attempted their disastrous re-entry into the castle, and a number of guards were stationed around the room, looking on impassively. Morgana, however, was a lot more interested, and from her seat she looked over at Arthur and Merlin with a sharp curiosity.

They were all waiting for Uther; waiting for the King, who was standing before them, fury in his eyes, to speak. When he finally did, Merlin was wishing for the silence again.

"What is the meaning of this, Arthur?" Uther demanded, his voice dangerously controlled. "It is quite obvious that you are not ill. So perhaps you can explain to me how my son, the heir to the throne, came to be dressed as a peasant and running around the countryside with his servant."

"Father..."

"No! You do not have the right to address me so," Uther bellowed. "I brought up my son to be honest and loyal. No son of mine would behave in such a childish and self-serving manner. What possessed you to act in this way?"

Merlin watched as Arthur clenched and unclenched his jaw. Silently, he willed him to keep his temper in check.

"It was never my intention to cause conflict with you, Sire," Arthur appeased, tension laced through every syllable.

"You have been playing me for a fool!" Uther shouted, advancing on Arthur until they stood face to face. "You have shown me that you have no loyalty, no sense of duty, to Camelot or to me. I am ashamed of you."

Merlin could feel the energy in the room change as Arthur's control of his emotions slipped, a hum of magic which would go unnoticed by everyone else in the room, with the possible exception of Morgana. He looked across at her and saw her lips twisted into a smile. Merlin's eyes darted back to Arthur. There was no way out.

"I have no sense of duty?" Arthur asked his father quietly. "I have served Camelot and you with all that I have since I became old enough to do so."

"I see no evidence of that now," Uther replied coldly. "You have always been too headstrong, too prone to putting your own judgement ahead of mine. I have been too indulgent. Your recent behaviour has made it clear to me that you cannot be trusted."

That was it. That was all it took.

"_I_ cannot be trusted?" Arthur shouted, making nearly everyone in the room jump. "Who are you to accuse me of that? You have lied to me from the day I was born! It is you who cannot be trusted."

"You will not speak to me in such a way!"

But Arthur could not be stopped now. "For once, I will say whatever I want to say. You've lied to me about my mother and how I came to be born, and you have lied to me about Morgana. You act the great and wise King, the concerned father, but you are nothing but a liar and a fraud!"

Uther's gloved hand struck Arthur's face and, nearly instantaneously, the sound of a dozen swords being unsheathed sliced through the air. Gasps and cries filled the room as Arthur's eyes shone with furious gold and twelve swords hung high in the air, each and every one free of their owner and pointed aggressively at the King below.


	11. The Truth

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews, lovely people, and for reading my story. There's a lot of big stuff happening in the next few chapters. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 11. The truth

The next few minutes were, forever after, a blur to Merlin. As the first sword plunged towards Uther's upturned face, he took the chance that he was the last person anyone in the room would be looking at and deflected it with a swipe of his arm and a hurried spell, then lunged straight for Arthur. He took the Prince about the shoulders and, with momentum behind him, managed to push him down to the floor.

"Arthur, stop!" He grabbed frantically at his face, trying to focus Arthur's attention on him and away from Uther. "Calm down. Don't do this."

Arthur's eyes flicked from Uther to Merlin and he let out a deep, ragged breath. Behind Merlin, a clash sounded as a second sword hit the stone, this time falling uselessly two yards from where the King stood. Merlin was aware of a rush of movement as knights in red capes rushed to their liege's side and bustled him to safety in a far corner of the room. Arthur's face was pale and his eyes a washed-out blue as the gold light left them. The rest of the swords fell, their clatter sharp and uncontrolled. As the last chime faded to nothing, Merlin sat back on his heels and all was silent again, but for the laboured pants of breath leaving Arthur's chest.

"Guards." Uther's call was weak and dazed and no one moved a muscle.

Arthur sat on the ground, his eyes fixed on where the swords lay abandoned, his body hunched and unfamiliar-looking in the borrowed clothes. Merlin tried to think of what to say – to him, to Uther, to _anyone_ – but his brain wasn't moving quickly enough and he could think of nothing.

"Guards," Uther said again, taking a few steps towards the middle of the room, out of the protective cordon formed by his knights. He waved his hand towards his son and slowly the men standing unarmed near the doorway began to move forward, their steps cautious and their eyes wide.

It wasn't until three men had taken hold of Arthur, dragged him to his feet and held him at arm's length in front of them that Uther moved to stand before his son.

"Who..." Uther's voice was broken and matched the bewilderment which was easy to read on his face. "Who are you? What evil sorcery is this?"

Arthur said nothing, his chin hanging close to his chest.

"Answer me! Who are you? Where is my son?" Rage rising up inside him, Uther grew bolder, walking close enough to his captive to look him hatefully in the eye.

When Arthur kept his head bowed, Uther flicked a brief gaze towards one of the guards, who grabbed the back of Arthur's hair and jerked his head back so that he had to look up towards the King. But it was Merlin Arthur's eyes settled on, over Uther's left shoulder.

With everything he had, Merlin willed him not to say anything, to keep his mouth shut and buy them some time to find a way out. But even as he looked on he could see Arthur's resolve strengthen. His jaw clenched and his eyes, for all their fierce defiance, flashed Merlin a brief apology. He wouldn't be taking an easy way out.

"It's me, Father," Arthur said firmly, finally looking the King in the eye. "I am Arthur."

Uther shook his head wordlessly and Arthur let out a harsh laugh. "We finally see each other plain and neither likes what they see."

Uther stepped back quickly. "Take him to the dungeons."

Merlin, forgotten for the moment, looked on as Arthur was led away, offering no resistance. Once the Prince was out of sight, he looked hesitantly around at the stunned faces of those still gathered. Uther looked to have aged ten years during the space of one conversation but the countenance that truly shocked him was Morgana's. For, standing next to her chair, her fingers biting into the wooden arm of it, the Lady Morgana wore on her pale face an expression of pure, fearful astonishment.

* * *

Merlin had to jog at Gaius' side to keep up with him. As the physician and his ward hurried along the corridors of the castle, small groups of people stood about, whispering in hushed voices, hands clamped to opened mouths and eyes wide with horror.

"You must tell him that..."

"I know what to tell him, Merlin," the old man snapped. "I have to tell him whatever it takes to keep you and I out of the trouble Arthur is in."

"Gaius!"

The physician stopped in his tracks and put one hand to Merlin's chest, pushing him none too gently towards the wall. "Listen to me carefully, Merlin. You and I will be of no use to Arthur if we are locked up with him. As far as anyone other than Gwen is to know, Arthur's outburst in front of his father is the first we knew of him having any magical ability at all. Is that understood?"

Without waiting for a reply, Gaius set off again, his robes trailing along behind him.

"But we can't just abandon him, Gaius," Merlin pleaded, right back at his side.

"Of course not. I'm going to tell Uther that it may be linked to his illness and that he could be under some kind of enchantment. How I'm going to explain the pair of you riding back into the castle with Arthur disguised as a peasant, I'm not sure. Hopefully something will come to me before Uther decides to have you executed just for good measure."

Merlin shook off Gaius' terse remarks, knowing he hadn't been a fan of that particular plan in the first place. "But what about Morgana, Gaius?"

"What about her?"

"I saw her face while Arthur was being taken away," Merlin hissed. "She was surprised. I don't think she knew about Arthur's magic."

Gaius stopped again and turned to face Merlin, his frown deeply etched on his face. "But if she didn't know..."

"Exactly!" Merlin cried. "If it wasn't Morgana and Morgause who gave Arthur that magic, where has it come from?"

Gaius pondered this for only a moment. "We don't have time to consider that now. I must get to Uther before he has too much time to think this through. Go and let Gwen know what's happening. Between you, you should be able to keep an eye on Morgana. I'll find you as soon as I'm finished with Uther."

Merlin nodded and stopped still, watching as Gaius swept the rest of the way down the corridor and rounded the corner, taking him out of sight. Turning on his heel, he ran off to find Gwen.

* * *

Darkness was falling as Morgana pulled the cloak around her shoulders, fastening it nimbly and ensuring the folds of the hood hid her face sufficiently. Her heart was beating a fast rhythm within her chest. Leaving the castle to meet Morgause always gave her a thrill of excitement, but now it was something more.

Arthur was imprisoned beneath the castle, faced with the undeniable charge of using magic to try to kill the King. Her heart had almost stopped when she'd seen his eyes dance so beautifully and the swords glide simultaneously from sheaths all around the room. He hadn't even needed to put voice to an incantation. At that moment, images of the garden inside Arthur's quarters had come flooding back to her, painted now in an altogether different light.

Controlling her breathing very deliberately, Morgana leaned to the side and looked around the corner with one eye. Seeing Gwen and Merlin standing close together and speaking in urgent whispers, she drew back and quickly decided on an alternate route. As she strode along the lesser-used corridors on her way to freedom, she could feel frustration and annoyance buzzing inside her. Merlin was always there, foiling her plans and making life difficult. He was yet another constricting force she had to work against. Pursing her lips, Morgana walked faster.

The cool night air steadied her as she set about mounting the horse she had paid a boy to ready earlier. Merlin would not be her problem for much longer. But as the hooves of her horse clattered over the drawbridge and the evening chill filled her lungs invigoratingly, it was more than annoyance which drove her to move her horse along faster. Pure, untarnished anger was her driving force. Morgause had betrayed her.

* * *

Merlin dropped down onto his cot and gripped the edge as he stared out before him. His whole world, the whole of Camelot in fact, was crumbling before his eyes. Gaius was still with Uther. At any moment Merlin expected guards to come rushing through the door to take him away. How would Gaius be able to convince the King of their innocence when this afternoon's events would likely drive the already paranoid Uther beyond all reason?

Leaping to his feet, his body too full of restless energy to sit still for long, Merlin walked towards the window and stood up on the step to look out.

_Merlin_.

His eyes still looking out at the darkness beyond, Merlin waited a moment and listened.

_Merlin._

Kilgharrah.

For all the desperation of their situation there was still a part of him which hesitated. After his last meeting with the Great Dragon, in which he had forced him to give him the magic to save Morgana, he was surprised to hear from him again so soon. He didn't want to go. He knew at least part of what the dragon would have to say. But he had no choice. Rushing to the door, Merlin swung his way down the steps and set off at pace.

* * *

Morgana rode swiftly on the open path, the heavy blackness of the Darkling Woods looming up before her. She thought back to the day, some weeks ago, when she had persuaded Arthur to go out riding with her for the morning. Uther had been so pleased to hear her suggest it and had encouraged Arthur to make the time. It had sickened her to see him so happy.

Arthur had been easy enough to bait into the race, especially when she had given up the lead so quickly. She had considered causing his horse to startle and rear, but at the end of the day, the blow to the back of his head would be quicker and easier and he would not remember the circumstances when he came to, anyway. And so she had murmured a quick spell, moved her hand in an upward gesture and pushed the stone forcefully towards his head without ever having touched it. Arthur had slumped forward in the saddle and fallen. Morgause had appeared from between the branches. Morgana had felt a flush of pride at the smile of approval she had received.

It had been no difficulty for Morgause to move him to the cave hidden deep within the forest. She remembered his body hovering, his arms hanging limply by his side, as Morgause had moved him towards the crude stone altar and murmured the spell to bring him to rest upon it.

The plan Morgause had told her of was simple but needed complex magic to be brought to fruition. A link would be created between them, between Arthur and Morgause; one that would endure distance and time and could be used to enter the Prince's thoughts. Morgause would be able to ply him with knowledge while he slept, filling his mind with Uther's failings, his lies and his hypocrisy. He would learn the truth about his beloved father. Morgana had been captivated with the idea. It was her slow realisation of the true nature of Uther Pendragon which had pushed her down this path, and to ensure Arthur also learnt the truth was a perfect revenge. Father and son would not recover from such a division forged between them.

She had stood back and watched as Morgause began the preparation, the candle light flickering against the walls as Morgause concentrated as she had not seen her have to do before. It had been enthralling to watch but, even then, she knew something was not as it should be. Something was being kept from her.

* * *

He didn't think he'd ever get over the thrill of nervous energy that coursed through him every time he heard the flap of those great wings and felt the cyclone of wind that they pushed down upon the earth. Anxiety filled him as he stood his ground and it seemed the dragon wasn't exactly at ease either. Once he'd landed, looking vast and intimidating in the middle of the small clearing, he stayed very still, observing Merlin with those ancient, knowing eyes. Merlin stared back and had every intention of holding that gaze as long as he had to but, eventually, it was he who spoke first.

"You wanted to speak to me?"

The dragon lowered his head and intensified his glare. "I warned you, young warlock," he growled. "I warned you that only evil could come of your act of weakness. You did not heed my warning and you saved the witch. The great evil that is about to be unleashed will be on _your_ head."

Merlin shook his head impatiently. "I've heard this before. If this is all you called me for, I'm going."

He turned to leave, letting his pride and annoyance get the better of him. He badly wanted to ask the dragon for help, but he was making it impossible, as usual. He stopped short at the sound of Kilgharrah's next words.

"The young Pendragon is in mortal danger and it is your doing."

Merlin turned back again, the blood in his vein running icy cold. He stared up at the dragon but said nothing.

"The magic that has been done here is ancient and dangerous. One way or another the Prince will die, be it at Morgause's hands or his fathers. And when he does, Uther's decent into madness will be swift and deadly. No creature in Camelot, magical or otherwise, will be safe from his vengeful wrath."

"No." The word fell uselessly from Merlin's mouth.

The dragon laughed harshly. "You brought this upon yourself, foolish boy. I _warned_ you."

"So you've come here to gloat?" Merlin shouted. "You think this is funny?"

The laughter stopped instantly. "I see this for what it is," the dragon hissed. "A premature end to a glorious future, and one that was completely avoidable."

"All right!" Merlin screamed with everything he had, emotion overflowing within him. "All right! I was wrong. I should have let her die! I made a mistake. But what do I do now? How do I fix this?"

The Great Dragon shook his head slowly from side to side. "The time for that is past. The magic Arthur now possesses is Morgause's own. This is not a bond which you can break."

"Morgause's magic? I don't understand. There must be something I can do."

"There is not. A living link has been formed between the two. Her magic finds its way to him but he has no home in which it can reside. It flows from him impulsively and without direction. For the bond to be broken either Arthur or Morgause must sever the tie which joins them."

"That cannot be the only way," Merlin cried in desperation.

"The only other one who can break the link is death," the dragon pronounced. "If one or both of them were to die, the connection would die with them."

The dragon waited while Merlin took in the words. "You cannot save him now," he announced, moving restlessly from one foot to the other as he began to prepare for flight. "Arthur cannot wield this magic, it is not made for him, nor he for it. So he will not be able to break the tie. Morgause _can_ but she will not see it broken until Arthur Pendragon lies dead at her feet. She has no reason to put an end to it now – all she has planned is coming to pass. Arthur will die and Uther will descend into utter madness. Camelot will be laid at the Lady Morgana's feet and a tyrannous reign will begin, the likes of which have never been seen before."

As the dragon's voice rose into a bellowing cry, he left the ground and hovered above Merlin with his great wings beating steadily. "The Pendragon dynasty is at an end. Camelot lies in ruins. Albion is lost."

And he was gone, soaring up swiftly over the trees and disappearing into the deep of the night. Merlin was left alone in the clearing, tears falling unrestrained from his eyes.

"And I could have stopped it," he murmured, the image of Morgana's pallid face, close to death, appearing unbidden in his mind's eye.

* * *

Morgana's pace had slowed as her horse picked its way through the wood, following the familiar trail. The horse knew its way and that was just as well for Morgana was concentrating on her memories. She recalled how Arthur's body had jerked upon the altar, his back arching and a cry of pain escaping his lips, though his mind remained mired in unconsciousness. The ball of golden light Morgause had held forth in her hand had changed, stretching itself until it formed a vibrating ribbon of light which travelled from her hand to Arthur's prone body. At a fevered urging from Morgause it had leapt its final distance, piercing Arthur's chest at his heart. Instantly, more vibrant ribbons had erupted from the first, leaping like lightning from one body to the other and back again. The light had been so tremendous that Morgana had had to raise a hand to shield her eyes, only to look back again, drawn by the terrifying beauty of the scene.

Summoning a last surge of energy, Morgause's eyes had flashed their brightest as she muttered ancient words, the sound of which had thrilled Morgana's heart. The beams of golden light had arced wildly between the two before splitting and flying home, half going back to Morgause and the other half travelling back to Arthur and forcing their way into his chest. As darkness had suddenly enclosed them, Morgause had dropped to the ground. Morgana had hastened to her side, helping her sister to sit and letting her rest against her.

She remembered how Morgause's eyes had flickered as she looked from the altar back to Morgana. "It is done, Sister. It is done."

Now, as Morgana led her horse through the trees and out into the clearing, her brow creased into a frown.

"Sister."

She turned and saw Morgause to her right, her blonde hair framing her face and her dress wrapped around her body like a silken binding.

"What did you do to Arthur?" She knew her voice was shrill but she could not control it. "Why have you not told me the truth?"

Morgause seemed surprised but her voice was as soothing as ever. "I have not lied to you, Morgana."

"Then why did I just see Arthur enchant a dozen swords to fly into the air above Uther's head?" Morgana asked pointedly.

She did not miss the flash of delight that passed over Morgause's face.

"What other news from Camelot?"

The question was asked with unbridled eagerness and, although infuriated that she still received no answer to her own question, Morgana found herself replying.

"Arthur has been locked in the dungeons on charges of using magic. Uther has shut himself away and has seen no one but Gaius. Now, tell me. What have you done?"

"This is wonderful news," Morgause gasped, her hands clasped together under her chin. "Don't you see, Sister...?"

"Don't call me that!" the cry escaped Morgana's lips unbidden. She knew she sounded petulant but she did not care. Instead, she rushed on quickly, ignoring Morgause's raised eyebrows. "That morning in the woods, when you built the link to Arthur – you gave him magic, too, didn't you? Why would you keep this from me?"

Morgause barely managed to hide her annoyance. "I did not know if it would work. But that does not matter now. It has all worked perfectly. Uther's hand will be forced against Arthur and there will be nothing to stop us." She reached out and took both Morgana's hands in her own. "My sister, do you not see? The throne of Camelot will be yours!"

Morgana looked back at her teacher and guide, at the flush of excitement that had lit up her face. She felt anger rising up within her. "Do _you _not see?" she asked, snatching her hands back. "I do not want the throne. I do not _want_ to rule Camelot. How does that fit into your plans, _Sister_?"


	12. Morgana

**A/N: Next chapter for you all. I have a few more chapters already written but the story is getting quite complicated and all the characters are wanting to speak at once (Arthur lost out in this chapter so I've left him moping in the dungeons while Morgana, Merlin and Gwen do their thing) and so I'm having to hold onto them and make sure everything's flowing correctly as I finish this 'section'. I should have the next one ready to go before long, though.**

**Thanks for reading. Your comments are, as always, most welcome. Cheers.**

* * *

Chapter 12. Morgana's Decision

"Morgana, you must see sense!"

She couldn't help but feel some sense of achievement at having driven Morgause to such an exclamation. As they had stood and argued their points, Morgana had seen the usually calm and unflappable Morgause try to reason, cajole and manipulate as she attempted to convince her of her position. It seemed Morgause had at last reached exasperation.

"If magic is to be returned to the land both Uther and his son must be destroyed," she continued, her words laced with venom. "It is only with you, Sister, seated upon the throne of Camelot that balance can be restored."

"And if that is what it would take," Morgana insisted, "then I would do it gladly. Uther must die. I know that. I, more than most, have seen the evil his ignorance and fear have caused and I will happily dance upon his grave. But Arthur does not have to follow in his father's legacy. This magic you have given him has opened his eyes. I saw him with Gwen in his chambers; they were _revelling_ in it, Morgause. There was no fear or hatred. They could see the beauty of it."

Morgause shook her head dismissively. "They were children being entertained by party tricks," she snapped. "Will Arthur share the same attitude when a sorcerer wages war on his kingdom? Or when he opens his court to magic and he feels himself to be manipulated by magical advisors? He will outlaw magic out of fear and cowardice just as his father did before him."

"You don't know that."

"We cannot take the chance," Morgause cried. "We have the opportunity, Morgana, you and I, to safeguard the future of magic in this realm for generations to come. We do not do this for our own glory but for the sake those who would be victims at the hands of yet another cowardly tyrant set in Uther Pendragon's mould. Sister, there may never be another chance like this. We must trust each other if we are to make the most of it."

"The way you've trusted me?" Morgana asked with raised eyebrows. "You speak of 'we' and 'us' and yet you felt no need to inform me of the real purpose of your plans."

Morgause reached out a hand towards her. "It meant nothing," she assured her. "I simply did not know how well the magic would work."

Morgana shook her head. It was a weak excuse. If she were to be cynical she would guess that Morgause's real reason for neglecting to tell her that she was attempting to impart magic upon Arthur was that she knew she might have this reaction.

Morgana's hatred for Uther was intense and it drove her day and night, but Arthur was a different story. She had no cause to hate him, no reason to seek his demise. If he continued down the path of paranoia and hatred his father had travelled along, then undoubtedly those feelings would change, but she had reason to hope that would not be the case. And now that Arthur had experienced Morgause's magic and seen that magic in itself was nothing to fear, her feelings towards him had warmed further. This did not fit with Morgause's plans.

"It doesn't matter now," Morgana announced, her chin lifting a little in defiance. "What matters is that we reach agreement on how to proceed. You have given Arthur the knowledge to understand that Uther is not to be trusted. We can bring him to our side; help him to see the wrong that has been done by his father's hand."

"He is that easily led?" Morgause asked, her head tilting to one side.

Morgana frowned. "He is open to guidance...from those close to him."

Morgause's lips curved into a tight smile. "Like the boy Merlin, perhaps?"

Morgana's body tensed at the sound of the name. "What's your point?"

"You say yourself that Arthur is willing to be guided by those close to him," Morgause began, quietly. "Arthur and Merlin: how often do you see one without the other? He might only be a servant but Merlin undoubtedly has the Prince's ear. And the Prince, in turn, seems to place a good deal of trust in the boy. It might not be foolish to suppose that Merlin has some amount of influence over him, do you not think?"

Morgana inclined her head slightly but did not speak.

"Merlin has shown himself more than once to be no friend of magic," Morgause declared, her voice hard and judgement blazing in her eyes. "He has busied himself with foiling our attempts to free the land from Uther's crushing grasp. He has gone out of his way to make sure magic is not returned to Camelot. The boy is as small-minded as Uther and seeks to carry out the King's evil war against magic in his own small way. Is he who you want whispering in the ear of the next ruler of the land?"

Morgana shook her head in confusion. "Merlin...Merlin could be dealt with."

"Of course," Morgause agreed, reaching out and taking one of Morgana's hands between both of hers. This time Morgana did not pull away. "But if Arthur is so blind to the truth about the man his servant really is, is his judgement not questionable? Could you really ever trust a man who has placed so much store in the word of a man you know to be treacherous? The man who turned his back on friendship? The man who tried to kill you?"

Morgana opened her mouth to speak but could not manage any words. Morgause raised a hand to her face and let the back of her fingers delicately stroke the pale skin she found there. Morgana found herself wanting to lean into the touch and draw comfort from it.

"You were a friend to him, Morgana, and he repaid you with betrayal. You can never forgive him for that. And _I _shall never forgive Arthur Pendragon for drawing that boy under his wing and offering him friendship." There was a pause here as Morgause looked her Morgana directly in the eye. "But I seek only to aid you, Sister. If you trust Arthur, then I suppose I must try to also."

With that, Morgause dropped her hands to her side and turned. "We shall amend out plans..."

"No." Morgana spoke in a gasp, her eyes wide. "No, you are right. We cannot take the risk; not when the lives of so many are at stake. Arthur cannot be trusted with the throne. We must proceed as you had planned."

Morgause confined her smile to her eyes. "Very well, Sister. It shall be as you wish."

"What should I do?" Morgana asked, her voice regaining strength and determination, as her anger towards Merlin made good its defeat over her loyalty to Arthur. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Morgause moved towards her eagerly. "I am always glad of your help, Morgana. Our success depends on Arthur losing control of his emotions so that the magic can have free rein. You need to continue the work you began with Sir Cenwig. The foolish knight's disgrace infuriated Arthur and made it easy to push him further with my visions. Do you think you can drive him further still? The more unrest we can cause him the better."

Morgana thought for a moment before an idea occurred to her and she pushed her lips forward in a self-satisfied pout. "I think I can come up with something."

Morgause smiled, a mixture of relief and exhilaration coursing through her. This was the Morgana she could put her faith in unreservedly. This was the Morgana she loved.

The two parted without many more words being spoken. Morgause vanished into the night and Morgana retraced her path through the woods on her way back to Camelot, bitter hatred of Merlin driving all compassion from her heart.

* * *

Gwen was beginning to despair of ever finding either Morgana _or_ Merlin. Her mistress had left her chambers unseen while she and Merlin were talking outside, and Gwen had been unable to find her anywhere within the castle walls.

As Gwen had searched for her along the long corridors and through the quiet rooms, she had tried to shut her mind off to the reality of what had happened that evening, the danger Arthur was now in, but the rest of the castle's inhabitants made that difficult. The whole castle was buzzing with the amazing news that the Prince had been charged with using magic, and to try to kill the King, no less. She'd been able to feel the dull buzz of fearful excitement which seemed to be bouncing off the very walls. It was pulsing out of every huddled group of people she passed, every tense guard and distant-looking knight. Camelot didn't know what to do with itself in the middle of this turmoil, and neither did she.

The guards had blocked her path when she had attempted to go down to the dungeons to see Arthur and the petty errands she had tried to distract herself with had felt ridiculously inane. Who cared if Morgana's fresh linen was properly folded and put away or if the dust in the corner had been swept up when Arthur was sitting trapped in the dungeon accused of treason?

Arthur. She was terrified for him and nothing she could do could block that from her mind.

Gwen had lingered in her mistress's rooms, all attempts at distraction ended, staring blankly out in front of her and letting the emotions she had been pushing down all evening bubble to the surface. A short cry had slipped from her mouth, breaking the quiet in the room and then fading away into nothing. As she'd stood there, gentle echoes of castle life leaking through the walls, she'd found she was desperately sad that her mistress wasn't there. She wanted Morgana. Not the Morgana of late, the strange and remote creature who had returned from her year of captivity, but the Morgana who had enjoyed her company, appreciated her efforts and trusted her with her confidences. She wanted her friend back.

The thought had jolted her into action and she had walked briskly from the room, her chin set high and her ears determined to block out the gossip she was bound to overhear. She'd searched the castle for Merlin, knowing that he would help her in her hunt for Morgana or at least put her mind at rest. But he, too, had been nowhere to be found.

Now she had pulled a thick shawl around her shoulders and made her way outside, intent on escaping the gossip and collecting a few things from home before returning to spend the night in the castle. The clouds were all but blocking out the light of the moon and the breeze whipping around her ankles was sharp, but she took her time as she walked towards the town, indulging the despondency she could feel trying to take hold of her.

It hadn't escaped her notice that she always seemed to be looking for people, was always on her own. People tended to drop into her life whenever they needed to and out again just as quickly, and she was always there waiting for them. It was part of her job to be available. Whenever Morgana needed her, she had to be there ready to spend her time and energy seeing to her Lady's needs, forever kind and supportive. But it went further than that. It was part of her nature to be that person, the person who cared and nurtured. And she was happy – she really was – being the person people knew they could rely on, the steady, reliable girl in the background. But sometimes she couldn't help wanting a little _more_.

Morgana had grown so distant and detached that Gwen worried for her. They went through all the same motions, but she knew something had changed, something of their bond had broken and she knew it would never come back. She found it hard to be happy in her work anymore. She felt just as lonely in Morgana's presence as she did in her small house of a night time, where she had no one at all for company.

Arthur made her happy. She could feel the joy bubbling up inside her whenever he threw her a surreptitious smile and it was hard to contain the pride she felt as she watched him train his knights or stand tall and confident before his people. But their time together was hardly ever on her terms. It was dictated by Arthur's responsibilities and the meagre amount of time they could snatch to be together without prying eyes observing them. And part of her, a part she tried desperately not to listen to, wondered if it would be this way even if the impossible happened and she one day became his queen. Would she have an undeniable claim on him then, or would she be forever waiting for him while he addressed the needs of his people, forever waiting for him to ride home?

Even Merlin, whom she counted as a dear and close friend, was...illusive. She knew that he would never let her down when her need was great, but there was something mysterious about him, something that made it hard to turn to him about those small things in life that you shared with a friend. Merlin was always somewhere else, even when he was standing right in front of you, and as long as he kept his cards so close to his chest it was impossible to open up to him in return.

Lost in her thoughts, she walked away from the castle, towards the maze of houses, businesses and stables that made up the town, when a flicker of movement to her right caught her attention. She stopped in her tracks when she saw him, head bowed and hands tucked firmly into his armpits, entirely caught up in whatever musings were occupying his mind.

"Merlin!"

"Gwen, what are you doing out here?"

Her eyes narrowed as she took in the gaunt look of his face and the forced smile which couldn't quite cover the tumult reflected in his eyes.

"I was going home for a moment," she answered, pulling her thick shawl tighter around her shoulders. "I've been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?"

Merlin glanced awkwardly to one side and the obvious deception in the gesture stung Gwen, though she tried not to show it.

"I needed some air," he mumbled. "Is there any news from Gaius?"

Gwen shook her head. "He's still with Uther. No one else has gone in there all evening. Merlin, is something wrong? I mean...you know. Other than the obvious..."

Merlin smiled impulsively. "Other than Arthur being locked up in the dungeons for trying to kill Uther with magic?"

Gwen smiled for the first time in hours. "Yes. Other than that."

"No. Other than that, life is rosy." He tried to make his next words sound light and breezy. "How's Morgana?"

"Actually, that's one of the reasons I was looking for you. I haven't seen her since you came to speak to me just after it all happened."

"Morgana's missing?" Merlin felt his heart beginning to pound.

"I've looked all over for her. I'm worried, Merlin. She's probably upset about what's happening with Arthur and..."

Gwen pulled up short when Merlin's hand reached out and grasped her arm, pulling her in towards him. For a moment she was surprised and then the sound of hoof beats reached her ears. A rider was approaching at some speed and Merlin had pulled her out of his path. They both stood in the shadows as the rider went past them, cloak billowing out behind. Then they turned to each other with wide eyes.

"Was that..?"

"Morgana," Merlin finished, his eyes still fixed on her as she turned her horse towards the castle. "I think so."

"But what would she be doing riding off somewhere without anyone attending her?" Gwen asked in complete bafflement. "What could have been so urgent as to need dealt with now?"

Merlin's mind was whirling. He knew just where she would have been. He wished fervently he had the time to explain things to Gwen or, better still that he had tried to explain what was happening with Morgana before now. But now he had no time.

"Gwen, I need you to trust me." He took her by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye, his despondency from earlier gone as the adrenalin surged through him. "I'm going to go and speak to Morgana and I promise I'll tell you the truth as soon as I can. For now I need you to go back to Morgana's rooms. Go as quickly as you can."

"Merlin," he could see the anxiety in her eyes. "What's happening? Is this to do with Arthur?"

Merlin nodded frantically, already edging away from her. "Trust me, Gwen. I need to catch up with Morgana." With a quick squeeze of her arm he took off at pace. "I promise I'll explain soon."

Gwen watched him sprinting off in the same direction as Morgana had disappeared. Part of her wanted to demand an explanation or run to follow him, but it was easier to comply and she found herself walking slowly back towards the castle, Merlin's form moving further and further ahead of her before disappearing into the night.

Neither Merlin nor Morgana were to be seen as she entered the courtyard. The castle had an unnatural stillness to it. Perhaps it always looked and felt like this once night had fallen, but she didn't recall ever feeling quite so alone in a castle full of people. Her footsteps echoing on the stone, Gwen made her way through the courtyard and back into the castle.

* * *

Morgana was sweeping down an empty, seldom-used corridor when Merlin caught up with her. As he had been running the Great Dragon's words had been pounding through his head. _Camelot in ruins, Albion lost, Arthur will die._ He could feel his magic pulsing inside him and he knew that, for once, he would let his anger have its way. He locked his eyes on her. Her cloak was billowing out behind her and her shoes clipping a sharp rhythm on the stone floor. Merlin stopped in the centre of the corridor and firmed his stance. _It is your doing_.

"Morgana!"

She stopped in her tracks and turned swiftly, her cloak twisting around her body before dropping back into place. Her eyes narrowed as she saw him and her lips formed that cold smile Merlin had come to despise.

"What do you want, Merlin? Don't you have a royal execution to prepare for?"

"I know what you've done," his voice was cold and hard, a masculine match for hers. "I know what you and Morgause have done to Arthur."

If she was surprised by this she didn't let it show. "I don't know what you mean, Merlin."

Merlin's face broke into a bitter smile as he took a few steps to shorten the distance between them. "Oh, I think you do, Morgana. I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I don't have to listen to this," Morgana hissed, glaring at Merlin with eyes full of hatred. She turned and took a few steps along the corridor, but Merlin had no intention of giving up. He covered the yards between them quickly and positioned himself in front of Morgana, blocking her path.

"Yes you do, Morgana," he said firmly. "You're going to listen to me and then you're going to give me the answers I need. If you don't, I promise you, I _will_ make you regret it."


	13. Confrontation

**A/N: Sorry this chapter has taken a while. I've been without the internet for a week and it's so nice to have it back! Merlin and Morgana lock horns in this chapter and I hope it reads well because it's been fun to write them like this. Thanks for the lovely reviews and for everyone who takes the time to read it. **

* * *

Chapter 13 Confrontation

Arthur sat, head in hands, trying desperately to calm himself down. Since he'd been pushed through the barred cell door, a cyclonic wind had been swirling relentlessly around the small dark cell and chilling him to the bone. The knowledge that he was doing this to himself and that he had absolutely no control over it made it that much worse.

He couldn't help but think of this father's face before he had sent him away. The look of disgust and shame he had seen there was the living embodiment of every childhood nightmare he'd ever had. For as long as he could remember, he had worked to achieve the approval of his father. He had wanted nothing more than an appreciative nod or a congratulatory pat on the back from the great King. There had been times in his youth, Arthur thought, when he had probably been more in awe of Uther Pendragon that a peasant boy who might catch a glimpse of him from a distance. The great King of Camelot, the epitome of strength and nobility...a fraud.

The first morning Arthur had woken with that idea in his head – the inexplicable yet fully-formed understanding of Morgana's true connection to his father – he had been furious with himself for his treachery. How could he think that of his father? He had taken his anger out on the efficient, competent and thoroughly unsatisfactory servant who was serving him in Merlin's absence and wondered why he so regretted sending the bumbling fool off with Lady Cwenburg. The next morning he had admitted to himself that he wished Merlin were there, to pick up on his ill-temper and pester him with questions until he gave up the truth to him, relieving some of the terrible weight of burden which rested upon his shoulders. By the next, he didn't care anymore.

Three nights of being assaulted with the truth had driven him to the brink of a fury so great he couldn't feel anything else. No sadness, no shock, no aching desire for friendship had stood a chance against the tempest of rage which was consuming him. In the end, the magic had come as a relief. As terrifying as it had been, the magic had acted _for_ him, taking his wrath and acting on it, lashing out indiscriminately, just as he wanted to but hadn't been able.

Before he knew it, the magic had merged itself with his regular life. It had tormented Merlin and pushed him to a mirthful exasperation, it had courted Guinevere with tender gestures and admiration. It was like a more vivid version of himself, what he _could_ be if he was not bound by convention, duty and respect.

Respect. The magic had taught him new respect and destroyed old. He'd learnt the depth of Merlin's loyalty, Gaius' integrity and Gwen's affection. But he would never again strive compulsively to earn the approval of the father whose deception had obliterated the respect Arthur had built his life upon. The father who had betrayed his one true love and conceived a child with the wife of his friend, who had denied the truth of his daughter to the whole world and who, Arthur's latest revelations had convinced him, had used magic to trade the life of his 'beloved' wife for an heir.

Arthur couldn't restrain either the howl of anger or the terrible crack of thunder which broke somewhere near the ceiling of the cell and made the very walls shake. A nervous guard appeared at the door to his cell, his eyes wide with fear.

"What happened? Prince Arthur?"

Arthur gave him no answer and after a quick glance to make sure the security of the cell was still intact, the guard edged away again back to his post at the far end of the hallway.

When it came, the voice from the other side of the wall was so hard to make out above the gusting of the wind that Arthur almost missed it. But the low whisper was insistent and, as mired in his own woes as Arthur was, there was something to it that made Arthur clamber to his feet and make his way over to the bars.

"My Lord?" it asked, tentative and familiar. "Prince Arthur, is that you?"

Arthur frowned as he tried to place the voice. Putting his face close to the bars where they met the wall on the right side of his cell, he kept his voice low.

"Who's there?"

"It is I, my Lord, Sir Cenwig."

Arthur let out a sigh and leaned his head back against the cold stone. He'd expected to be angry when he next met with the young knight who had betrayed his trust and committed such dishonourable crimes. But he was spent.

"What do you want, Cenwig?"

"Sire, I do not understand. Why have you been imprisoned?"

Arthur shook his head wearily. "It's complicated."

"I've been asking to see you, my Lord, but the guards always refuse." The young man's voice was just as earnest and passionate as usual.

"You wanted to protest your innocence, I presume?" Arthur muttered dryly.

"Yes, Sire, but that is not all. It is not even the most important topic which I must raise with you, I fear."

Arthur kept his head tipped back against the wall but turned his face towards the bars again, his interest piqued despite himself by the urgency in Cenwig's voice. "What is it?"

"Sire, I fear for the safety of Camelot. Things have been happening...events taking place. I did not want to believe it but the longer I sit here, the more I reflect upon what has passed...I see no other explanation, my Lord. I wish that it were otherwise but..."

"Spit it out, Cenwig," Arthur snapped.

He could hear Cenwig drawing in a deep breath on the other side of the wall. "My Prince, you must act with caution," he announced slowly, his voice all gravity and solemnity. "I fear there is magic afoot in Camelot."

Arthur stood stock still, taking in the heavy silence that followed Cenwig's announcement. Then he laughed. He laughed until his face ached and he had to sink down onto his haunches to ease the pain in his sides. He could picture the ingenuous young man in the next cell and the disbelief his response must he causing him, but that only made him laugh harder. Magic in Camelot? Surely not?

* * *

"_You_ are going to make me regret it, Merlin?" Morgana asked, her eyes cold with fury as she regarded the servant boy blocking her path. "You? You have no idea who you're dealing with."

Merlin's face broke into a fleeting grin. "What a coincidence – neither do you."

Morgana smiled and took a step closer to Merlin. "Oh, I know exactly who you are, Merlin. You are the boy who pretended friendship and then poisoned me."

"I had no choice," Merlin murmured, resolute.

"You are the boy who whispers in Arthur's ear, who turns him against me. You are the boy who does everything he can to stop magic returning to Camelot."

Merlin shook his head in disbelief. "Morgana, surely you know that's not who I am. I've done everything I could to help..."

"You're a coward and you want to stop what you don't understand," Morgana hissed.

"No," Merlin spat, Morgana's ridiculous misconceptions making him throb with anger. "It's evil I want to stop coming to Camelot, not _magic_."

Morgana ignored him. She took one more step, so that their bodies were nearly touching, and then moved her head forward, her eyes downcast and her lips so close to his that he could feel her breath on his face. "Are you trembling right now, Merlin?" she whispered. "I know you're scared – of me...of magic."

Merlin shook his head ever so slightly, his eyes locked on her lips. "I'm not scared of magic," he told her, his voice soft and sure.

"No?" Morgana asked, her eyes flicking up to meet his. They held there for a moment, breathing in each other's breath, taking in each other's scent, and then she pulled suddenly away, taking a step backwards and instantly breaking the trance. "Maybe you should be."

Her voice was cold and harsh again and she raised her hand as she spoke. Merlin knew what was coming and he knew he should run, but he didn't. Morgana's cold eyes burned with gold and a fiery bolt of light leapt from her hand. Merlin watched it approach him, as if time had slowed, seeing the sparks fly off of it as it came closer and closer. When he had no time left, when Morgana's bolt of fire was nearly at his chest, he felt his mouth form the words.

"_Randgebeorh mec_."

A glowing ball of light left his hand, striking Morgana's and blocking its magic, sending sparks flying in all directions. Merlin looked directly at Morgana and took a moment to savour the look of astonishment on her face. Her eyes were as wide as Merlin had ever seen them and her lips were parted, the way they were moving leaving Merlin unsure if they were trembling or trying to form words. He couldn't help the malicious smile that flashed over his face and, as he watched Morgana gasp for breath he let the magic find his tongue again and sent another ball of magic flying towards her. It hit her square on the shoulder, twisting her body and knocking her back onto the floor.

Morgana immediately struggled into a sitting position, her eyes seeking Merlin's and anger corrupting her features. "You!"

"Didn't know as much as you thought you did, did you, Morgana?"

Morgana's answer was another bolt of light which Merlin parried easily, but which gave her enough time to regain her feet. She was ready for his next attack and she raised a shield which, though imperfect, absorbed the majority of the blow.

"So, this is how it is?" Morgana asked, panting a little as she fought to regain her wits. "Arthur's servant boy has magic. You had us all fooled. You've had years now to manipulate him, to bend him to your way of thinking."

Merlin laughed incredulously. "Not everyone works the same way as you and Morgause."

"Do you expect me to believe that you're not controlling Arthur, one way or another?" Morgana asked, disbelievingly. "You must have been, for him to have kept your secret for so long."

Letting Morgana's incorrect assumption slide, Merlin shook his head. "Arthur's his own man."

Morgana's eyes leapt with light and understanding. "That's why you've been fighting us, trying to stop us freeing Camelot. You want the power you'll have when Arthur becomes king! Tell me, will you keep him as your puppet or do away with him entirely and take the throne with magic?"

Merlin was growing furious with Morgana's speculations. It pained him to see just how mired in cynicism she had become, that she couldn't see any motivation other than greed and self-aggrandisement. "That's enough, Morgana."

"Did I hit too close to home?" Morgana asked, drawing herself up to her full height. "You must hate me and Morgause now that you will never achieve your goal."

"You can think what you want," Merlin snapped, quickly losing patience. "But I won't let you do this to Arthur. I'm going to stop Morgause."

"Not if you're locked in the dungeons. What do you think Uther will do when I go to him and tell him you've used magic against me? In the mood he's in, he might kill you himself, then and there." Morgana raised a hand and formed her thin but effective shield, holding it between them as she began back-tracking slowly down the corridor. "Goodbye, Merlin."

Merlin's eyes scanned the corridor quickly and came to rest on the statue against the wall which Morgana was only a few steps away from. He bided his time for just a few seconds until she was parallel with it then whispered his spell.

"_Manlícan ic i __brosne ond __færdryre_."

His eyes blazed with gold and the statue broke apart, crumbling into large pieces and cascading heavily to the floor, taking Morgana with it. Merlin moved immediately. He ran along the corridor, barely pausing to check what state she was in as he stepped over Morgana's prone body. As he neared the corner he could hear her stirring, groaning slightly, and he turned to see her pushing her body up from the floor. He swung himself around the corner and picked up his pace, running as fast as he could along the torch-lit corridors.

* * *

"My Lord, I do not understand. I am telling the truth, I swear to you."

Arthur rubbed his aching temples as his laughter died down and tried to show some compassion for the young man on the other side of the wall. "I know you are, Cenwig. I do believe you."

"Oh. Then forgive me, Sire, if I tell you that I don't understand your reaction."

"It's been a long few days," Arthur explained weakly. "I'm tired."

"Of course, Sire."

There was a short stretch of silence after Cenwig's murmured words, but the young knight was not able to sustain it.

"I'm sorry, my Lord, I know you may not feel disposed to listen right now, but I really must speak to you. You were right when you suggested I wished to proclaim my innocence, but it is not that straight forward. I would never, _never_ willingly commit such crimes as those I have been accused of and when the King's guards locked me up in here I would have sworn on my life that it was not I who perpetrated them. However, over the last day and night it has become clear to me that I did, in fact, have some involvement."

Arthur listened quietly to his fellow prisoner's words, noting the shame which laced the last few.

"At first I dared not even _think_ that what I'm about to suggest might be true, but I could see no other option and now, I fear, I am convinced," Cenwig continued. "The truth broke over me like a wave, you see, Sire. That is the only way I know to explain it. Last night, when the prison guards brought me some bread for my meal, they took away what possessions I could do without and left me with only the clothes I wear now. They took with them my cloak and any insignia of my knighthood. They also took the gold armband...The armband that had been given to me by the Lady Morgana."

Cenwig fell silent just as he had caught Arthur's attention. Arthur turned again to face the bars, a frown forming on his face.

"Lady Morgana? Why would the Lady Morgana have given you an armband, Cenwig?"

Cenwig was not oblivious to the severity in Arthur's tone, indeed, he had been expecting it.

"The Lady Morgana and I, Sire, had been involved in...in a...a tryst," Cenwig said finally, stumbling hopelessly over his words. "An _amorous_ tryst."

Arthur got to his feet and took a grip of the bars. "For your sake, Cenwig, I hope what you're saying is a joke."

Cenwig sighed, unaffected by the anger in the Prince's tone. "Rest assured, it is not you who has been played for a fool, Sire, but I," he murmured. "The Lady Morgana gave me the gold armband some weeks ago as a token of her affection, or so she told me. We met often, as often as we could steal the time, and I told her it was my intention to court her, that I would find a way to make our love viable and win the approval of King Uther."

Arthur bit back the words of ridicule which were on the tip of his tongue, sensing more to follow. Cenwig took a moment to compose himself and to form his next words, then continued.

"It was my belief that the Lady Morgana returned my affections. However, once the golden armband had left my possession I found myself...freed. Freed from some kind of constraint I had not known I was under."

"What do you mean? What kind of constraint?"

"Your Majesty, this is not easy to put into words. But once I had been parted from Lady Morgana's gift I found myself remembering. I remembered walking through the lower town long after nightfall at a time when I should, by rights, have been in my quarters. I remember myself taking things that did not belong to me, attacking men, hitting defenceless women." Cenwig's voice broken and it was only with stolid determination that he managed to finish what he had to say. "And I remember taking my instructions from the Lady Morgana. She commanded my every move and I was powerless...utterly incapable of denying her. I was bewitched."

Arthur closed his eyes and let out a long breath. "Cenwig, are you telling me that the Lady Morgana put you under some kind of a spell and forced you to commit the robberies and thefts?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And that you had no recollection of this until the armband Lady Morgana had given you – having presumably enchanted it beforehand – was taken from you, thus freeing you of her spell?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Arthur was left dumbstruck. He knew that usually, at any other time in his life than now, he would have rallied fiercely against such a suggestion and berated any man who dared put voice to it. He knew that he would never have come close to countenancing it. But now there was something inside him, something insistent and unrelenting that spoke to him, counselled him. Something that whispered to him of the truth. Something that told him Sir Cenwig was correct in every word he spoke. Something that told him Morgana was using magic against him.

* * *

Merlin rounded the last corner and saw the guard positioned at the door. He glanced behind him, saw that Morgana had not yet caught up, and forced himself to breathe a long, steadying breath. Walking slowly and deliberately, Merlin moved along the corridor towards the door. The guard was standing to one side of it and Merlin threw him a smile as he walked past.

"Nice night," he remarked, hearing the stupidity of it but not caring.

The guard frowned at him as if he had lost his mind and looked away awkwardly. Merlin took his chance. Abruptly changing course, he flung himself at the door, pushing it open in one violent move which sent him sprawling across the stone floor on the other side of the doorway.

"Merlin! What is the meaning...?" Gaius' voice was full of furious bewilderment.

"Guards!" Uther had been sitting on his throne when Merlin had burst through the door, but had now risen to his feet, his face a picture of fury. "Seize this fool! Take him to the dungeon."

"Sire, it is the Lady Morgana!" Merlin cried out, taking his only opportunity even as rough hands dragged him to his feet.

Uther held up a hand to halt the execution of his orders. "What of the Lady Morgana?"

Merlin looked from the King to Gaius, both their faces reflecting astonishment and confusion. He swallowed deeply.

"I, I think the illness..." he looked at Gaius in panic and wished he'd had a chance to run his plan by his mentor before he did this, "or whatever it is...I think it might have effected Lady Morgana as well."

Uther's jaw dropped and a significant tremble was visible in his hands. "Explain yourself."

"I was walking through the castle on my way to my room. As I turned into a corridor I saw the Lady Morgana. Her eyes...they lit up like gold. I've never seen anything like it. Then, then the statue she was looking at...it just fell to pieces. She hadn't even touched it."

Uther had turned so pale he looked like a corpse. He looked to Gaius who was still staring open-mouthed at his ward. "Is this possible? Could Morgana be under the influence of magic? Could she be..._using_ magic?"

Gaius fought to get his wits about him, his eyes still fixed on Merlin. The young warlock tried to send him encouragement using nothing but his eyes and hoped his desperation would come off as fear to the King.

"Well, yes," Gaius spluttered, finding his voice. "Yes, I suppose it is."

Uther looked back to the servant boy before him. "And where did you last see Lady Morgana?"

"In the corridor," Merlin answered, the fear in his voice more genuine than his words. "I didn't know what to do, so I ran straight here."

"You did the right thing," Uther muttered. "Gaius, what do you think is the best cause of action?"

The physician appeared shaken, not least by the indecision of the usually single-minded monarch. He looked at Merlin again in desperation and then answered as carefully as he could. "I feel it would be best, for Morgana's own protection, to keep her confined," he murmured.

Merlin could have cried tears of relief as Uther nodded his approval. "Of course. Guards..."

His order to his guards was cut off by the sudden appearance in the doorway of Morgana. Her eyes were wild and dust from the broken statue was collected in her hair and clinging to her gown. She looked only briefly at Merlin before walking towards Uther.

"Sire, I was so scared," she began, her tone childlike and needy and her arms outstretched as she began her act.

She was not at all prepared for the manner in which Uther backed away from her.

"It's all right, Morgana," he said stiffly, looking over her shoulder towards the guards. "Merlin has told us what happened. Guards, escort the Lady Morgana to her chambers and see that she remains there."

"No!" Morgana cried out, her voice a mixture of feigned bewilderment and unrestrained anger. "You don't understand. It wasn't me!"

Two guards approached and took Morgana by her arms, directing her firmly towards the open door. She struggled futilely under their grip and cast desperate looks over her shoulder at the King. Uther, however, was standing with his eyes averted, his expression desolate and haunted.

"You can't do this to me!" Morgana cried as she was pulled from the room. "No! Uther, please."

But her cries fell on deaf ears and soon the sounds of her protest faded over distance.

Uther managed to draw himself together for long enough to look in the vague direction of the court physician. "You can go now. Gaius, whatever you can do, whatever guidance you can give me..."

"Yes, Sire. I will do everything I can to find...a cure."

With that Gaius bowed low and walked towards the door, taking Merlin firmly by the elbow and drawing him along with him. The remaining guard closed the door behind them but Gaius kept up his tight grasp of Merlin's elbow until they had walked some distance away.

"Now, do you mind telling me what's been happening over the last couple of hours?" Gaius hissed. "All I asked you to do was to keep an eye on Morgana and try not to get into trouble."

Merlin shook his head. "There isn't any way to keep out of trouble, whatever I do. Walk with me and I'll explain everything."

Gaius followed the young man as he took off along the corridor. "And just where is it you're going now?"

"The dungeons," Merlin answered without slowing his long stride. "I need to tell Arthur the truth about Morgana."


	14. The Tables Turned

**A/N: Sorry for the longer than usual wait. Thank you to everyone for reading and to those who left reviews – I haven't managed to get back to you yet, but I do, as always, appreciate your words.**

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Chapter 14. The Tables Turned

"I know it must be a shock, Sire."

There was no reaction from the next cell. Cenwig ran a hand through his hair.

"I would never have suggested such a thing unless I was sure."

Still Prince Arthur did not respond. Cenwig put his face between the bars and tried to angle his head so that he could see the patch of passageway directly outside the Prince's cell. As the bars pressed uncomfortably against his cheekbones and no amount of angling made much difference, this wasn't very successful, but he could make out the bits of straw which were still skittering strangely around on the floor outside Prince Arthur's cell, as though caught in a breeze. He pulled back a little and then tried again.

"I know you do not want to think such a thing about the Lady Morgana. She is, after all, almost a sister to you..."

"Cenwig?"

He leaned forward against the bars, eager to here the Prince's words now he had finally decided to speak to him. "Yes, Sire?"

"Shut up."

Cenwig bit his lower lip and nodded his head. "Yes, Sire."

Kicking at the shafts of straw which littered his cell floor, Cenwig wandered the short distance across to the opposite wall and back. He understood the Prince not wanting to speak to him. Prince Arthur was a man of honour, a man who fought for his people out of duty and nobility of spirit – it must be hard for him to take in the betrayal Lady Morgana's actions implied.

It was Arthur who had inspired Cenwig to persevere with his desire to become a knight. He had known he was not the strongest, the fastest, or necessarily the bravest among the group of potential knights he was placed in when he first came to Camelot, and to begin with he had met with distain from Prince Arthur. He had been slow at the drills and had not met with Arthur's high expectations. The sting of rejection had nearly been enough to send him back home to his father.

But then the Great Dragon had attacked Camelot and Cenwig had watched Arthur defend the kingdom and its people with a devotion and bravery which left him in awe. He saw him ride out with his courageous collection of knights to face certain defeat, and he saw him walk back into the courtyard battered but victorious, only his servant by his side. Cenwig knew then that, while he would never be the warrior and leader of men he saw in Arthur, he wanted nothing more than to serve his Prince with the same gallantry and devotion that the fallen knights had done in facing the dragon at his side. He'd returned to his training with total dedication and even Arthur had noticed the difference in him. The proudest moment of his life was when he knelt before King Uther to receive his knighthood, ready to ride out with Prince Arthur in the search for the Lady Morgana the next day.

And now look at him. Locked in a dungeon in the bowels of the castle, the perpetrator of a series of dishonourable crimes, a victim of dark magic which had been forced upon him by the woman he had been besotted with, the King's ward. It was a strange twist to have the Prince imprisoned in the next cell, for crimes unknown to him, but it served to give him heart. The close proximity of his hero gave him courage, though he could see no way out of the disgrace he had brought upon himself with his gullibility.

Cenwig was on another of his countless laps of his dark cell when he heard the voices at the far end of the passageway. He stood still and listened. A long murmur and then a raised voice he knew to belong to one of the guards. He hastened to the cell door.

"Sire?" he hissed, desperate to keep this voice low enough to avoid unwanted attention. "Sire, do you hear that?"

But the strange sound of gusting wind had picked up over the last few minutes, and Arthur either could not hear him or was choosing not to respond. Cenwig turned his ear to the bars and did his best to concentrate.

"...have my orders...no one is to pass without..."

A further murmur; soft, reasonable tones which were not distinct enough to reach Cenwig's ears.

"Yes, I see that but...No...If that's the case I suppose..."

The soft voice again and laughter. Warm camaraderie. Footsteps. Cenwig darted back into the far corner of his cell, where shadows hid him from the flickering torchlight in the hallway.

"Arthur?"

Cenwig watched as two figures passed by slowly, their eyes peering into the darkness of his cell as they went by. He recognised them instantly – Gaius the physician and the Prince's manservant, Merlin. He heard them pause outside the next cell and he moved forward cautiously, feeling dishonourable for attempting to eavesdrop but unable to stop himself. From where he stood he could see the boy Merlin gazing into the next cell with a frown on his face.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked (and if Cenwig didn't know better he would have thought he heard a hint of amusement in the servant's voice). "Why is it raining in your cell?"

Cenwig's brow creased into a frown of his own. Raining in the Prince's cell? Perhaps that was some kind of code? The Prince's response served only to heighten his confusion.

"Yes, Merlin. I know it must be very amusing for you to see me sitting here looking like a drowned rat. But if you could wipe that stupid smirk off your face for just a minute I'd appreciate it. I need to talk to you about Morgana."

* * *

Gwen had been startled by the sudden arrival of her mistress. The Lady Morgana looked even paler than usual and for some reason there was white dust clinging to her hair and dress.

"Morgana!" Gwen leapt from her seat on the edge of the bed and went to her mistress. "What happened to you? What's this dust?"

Morgana's eyes flicked to Gwen's face and her smile was immediate.

"Oh, it's nothing. A small accident. Don't worry about me, Gwen," she murmured, her smooth hand finding Gwen's. "Not when poor Arthur is in such desperate trouble."

They both flinched at the sound of the door to her chambers being shut sharply. Gwen looked at Morgana with questioning eyes.

"Uther has confined me to my chambers," Morgana explained, managing a convincing roll of her eyes. "I argued with him about Arthur. I can't believe he's being so ruthless towards his own son. I mean, there must be an explanation for all this."

Gwen smiled and felt a warm glow of appreciation for Morgana inside her chest. "Of course. I'm guessing the King didn't take what you had to say well?"

"Does he ever?" Morgana asked, with a sad smile. "He's convinced Arthur has been hiding this magic for him. He plans to try him for treason."

A gasp escaping her, Gwen covered her open mouth with her fingers. "No! What will he do to him if he's found guilty?"

"_When_ he's found guilty," Morgana corrected. "There's no question that he will be found guilty, not with the King as judge and jury. Uther has built his kingdom upon his hatred of magic, he will not break his own code now, even if it means Arthur has to die because of it."

Gwen reached out behind her, searching for something to steady her as her head swam. Surely...surely this could not be happening. Uther loved his son. How could he forsake him like this? She let out a shuddering cry and was only barely aware of Morgana's comforting arm around her shoulder, guiding her towards the bed. As she perched on the edge of it she felt the first tears fall, and it wasn't until she felt the bed dip next to her under Morgana's weight that she turned to look at her mistress.

"It's all right, Gwen," Morgana murmured, her gaze steady and her smile kind. "We're not going to let this happen. Merlin and I have decided on a plan to help Arthur escape before Uther can do him any harm. It's a good plan, but we need your help to make it work. I know I ask too much but..."

"No!" Gwen cried, her hands clutching Morgana's in her sudden fervour. "Anything... I will do anything at all. Whatever you need me to."

Morgana smiled in wonder. "You are so good, Gwen, so brave to want to help us. But it will be dangerous. I don't want to put you in harm's way."

Gwen shook her head resolutely. "Please, My Lady, you do not need to worry. I'll help gladly. I want nothing more than Arthur's safety."

Morgana nodded. "Very well. There is not much time, so we need to act quickly. Merlin is readying horses as we speak. I have this tincture which Gaius has made especially," she paused and drew a vial from the soft velvet bag which hung from her belt. "It's a very strong sleeping draught which we will use to get past the guards in the dungeons. From there we will use their keys to set Arthur free and escape the castle. Merlin will be waiting in the lower town with the horses."

Gwen nodded. "But how will we get out of the castle? We'll be seen."

"We will need clothes to use as disguises," Morgana murmured, her words flowing smoothly. "And weapons in case we are discovered. We were hoping you could help us procure those?"

Gwen rose to her feet, full of resolve and nervous energy. "I'll be able to find some clothes," she agreed. "And I could go to Arthur's chambers for the weapons. But how are you going to get past the guards at your door?"

"Gaius gave me a bag of dried ingredients," Morgana explained, nodding to her pouch. "Don't ask me what's in there, but apparently when burnt it will produce fumes that will make my guards drowsy enough for me to slip past unnoticed. Then I must collect some things from Merlin's quarters. I can meet you in the dungeons once I've managed to drug the guards."

"But My Lady, surely it is not wise for you to be the one to drug the guards?" Gwen questioned. "It would be much easier for me to obtain some tankards of mead from the kitchens and add Gaius' draught. They would not think it unusual coming from a serving girl."

Morgana looked back at her maid for a long moment, as if trying to come to a decision which she was finding difficult. "Very well," she sighed reluctantly. "It _would_ make more sense. But you must promise me you'll be careful, Gwen. If_ I_ was to be caught, Uther would show at least _some_ mercy. It is much more dangerous for you and I would never forgive myself if any harm was to come to you."

Gwen tilted her head to one side as she looked down at her mistress. There was no mistaking the genuine concern in her voice, the affection she could read in her eyes. "I'll be careful, My Lady, I promise. But you must not underestimate the risks you yourself face in helping Arthur escape. It is very brave of you, Morgana. Arthur will be grateful. I think what you're doing is wonderful."

The Lady Morgana smiled sweetly at her servant and reached out to take hold of one of her work-worn hands. So simple and so easily led. Gwen would have only her own gullibility to blame when this all came to a head and her eyes finally opened to her mistress's betrayal. Morgana smiled contentedly. Merlin's little trick had played right into her hands.

* * *

Merlin looked around at Gaius and then back at the Prince. Arthur was standing before them with tiny rivulets of water running down his face – products of the unrelenting rain which was pouring down from the angry magical cloud near the ceiling of the cell – and his eyes fixed and serious.

"So you think Morgana was forcing Sir Cenwig to commit the crimes with some kind of enchantment?" Merlin summarised.

"Would that be possible?" Arthur asked of Gaius, wiping the sodden hair from his forehead as he spoke. "Can it be done?"

Gaius nodded decisively. "Most definitely. But for what purpose?"

"To make Arthur angry," Merlin answered, speaking more to himself than anyone.

"And why would she want to do that?" Arthur demanded.

Merlin looked back at his Prince. He was still trying to pluck up the courage for the next part of the conversation. Falling short, he scrunched up his face and changed the topic.

"How did you find all this out...about the armband, I mean?"

Arthur nodded his head towards the wall on his right. "Cenwig told me."

Merlin leaned back without moving his feet and looked into the next cell. Sir Cenwig's inquisitive young face was looking back at him from between the bars. "Oh, hi."

The knight nodded. "Hello."

Merlin turned his attention back to Arthur and took a deep breath. "There are some things I have to tell you."

Arthur waited patiently for only a moment. When it became clear Merlin wasn't on the verge of speaking he held up both his hands in front of him, letting the rain collect in puddles on his palm. "Please, Merlin, take your time. I'm in such a splendid mood – make the most of it!"

Merlin's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "You're not going to like what I've got to say."

"_Really_, Merlin? How much worse could it get?"

Merlin looked around at Gaius and was met by a pair of eyebrows raised as high as his own. Gaius cleared his throat and placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"I'll leave you to it," the physician murmured. "I'll tell the guards I'm going to prepare a tincture for Arthur and I'm leaving him in your care while I do it." He leaned in close to Merlin's ear and dropped his voice. "Try not to make him _too_ angry. I know he's behind bars but I don't think that guarantees your safety!"

Gaius turned and Merlin waited while his steady footsteps retreated along the passage. Then he turned reluctantly back to Arthur.

"Let's hear it, Merlin," Arthur encouraged firmly.

"I...Listen...Morgana does have magic. She's must have been using Sir Cenwig to try to upset you, to make you angry. She knew that making you angry would bring out the magic in you and you wouldn't be able to control it. She's trying to turn Uther against you..."

"But, wait a minute..." Arthur cried, halting the flow of words spewing from Merlin's mouth, "how would she have known about my magic?"

"Your _what_?" Cenwig's startled voice came from the other side of the wall. Both Arthur and Merlin ignored him.

"Arthur." Merlin couldn't find a good way to say this, it just didn't exist. He took a deep breath and ploughed on, ignoring the horrified look on Arthur's face. "Morgana is in league with Morgause. They've managed to create a bond, a link, between you and Morgause. The magic you've been using has come from her and so have the thoughts that you've been coming across in your sleep. They've been trying to ...destabilise you, to make you angry enough for the magic to spill out, preferably against Uther. They're trying to take the throne of Camelot for Morgana. They want you and your father dead."

Merlin ran out of breath and words at the same time. He stood staring at Arthur, whose eyes were locked on his. Somewhat miraculously, the wind and rain had stopped but the icy calm did little for Merlin's nerves. All he could do was look back at the Prince as he digested the information that had just been thrown at him – the entire, soul-destroying truth of it – and wait for the inevitable disbelief to pour forth. But it never came.

He was shocked when he saw the acceptance in the washed-out blue eyes, and even more so when Arthur nodded his head slowly.

"Right," Arthur murmured, dazed. "Right."

Arthur gingerly lowered himself down onto the floor and sat there with his knees propped up and his back against the wall. Merlin sank down onto his haunches.

"I'm sorry, Arthur," he said softly. "I really am."

The Prince nodded away his servant's condolences, his eyes fixed on a patch of thin air in front of him. "It's all right, Merlin."

"But it's not, is it? I mean..."

"She's been different," Arthur cut in, turning to look at Merlin again. "Since she came back, I mean. I'm not exactly the most observant person out there when it comes to women, but even I noticed that. There's something...missing."

Merlin nodded gravely. "She has changed. She was with Morgause for that year. It was no accident that we found her – they were ready for her to come back. They needed someone inside the castle."

He could tell he'd just voiced things Arthur hadn't even got around to thinking about yet and he winced as the pain of the revelations wrote itself across Arthur's face.

"She's been lying all that time," he murmured. "It's all been...an act."

"I'm sorry," Merlin said again, feeling useless.

He waited through another stretch of silence, but the absence of any kind of magical outburst was too much for his curiosity. "Aren't you angry?"

Arthur twisted his mouth to one side and shook his head. "No. I'm just..." The word 'sad' sprung to mind, but he was damned if he was going to say it. Instead he took a deep breath and turned to Merlin. "So, what do we have to do to stop them?"

* * *

Morgana sat at her dressing table, gazing at her reflection in the delicate mirror she held in her hand. She adjusted the lock of hair which was falling over her face, pulling it behind her ear and pausing to admire the effect. She closed her eyes briefly.

"_Blódryne fram min hnifol._"

She opened her eyes and saw the gold reflected in them. A second later a split appeared on her brow near her right temple and a trickle of blood issued forth. Morgana watched it in the mirror as it flowed over her cheekbone and along the hollow of her cheek. It pooled for a moment at her jaw-line and then fell in a patter of drops onto the bodice of her gown.

Morgana put down the mirror carefully and rose to her feet. She walked slowly across the empty room until she reached the door, where she paused. She closed her eyes again, pulled in a few quick deep breaths and then flung the door open.

"Please," she gasped, continuing to breathe quickly. "Help me, please."

Both guards posted at her door turned in alarm. She turned to the closest of them and reached for his arm, clinging to it desperately.

"My maid, how long ago did she pass by? I tried to stop her but she hit me and I fell. I must have hit my head. Please, you must do something..."

"Lady Morgana," the second and older of the two guards interrupted in a low and urgent tone. "What happened?"

Morgana turned to him, her eyes wide. "My maid and the manservant, Merlin...they are going to try to free Prince Arthur. You must tell the King at once!"

* * *

Merlin couldn't help the twitch of a smile that played on his lips. Typical Arthur. Enough brooding – time for action.

"There are two ways to break the link between you and Morgause. One of you could use the magic itself to break it. It would mean controlling the magic and using it against her. It would take a lot of strength and concentration."

"I don't have a good track record with controlling this magic, Merlin," Arthur reminded him.

"No," Merlin admitted. "The other way is for one of you to die."

Arthur raised his eyebrows at the implications. "So we have to kill the witch?"

"Basically."

"And Morgana?"

"I'm guessing she'll do everything she can to stop us," Merlin sighed, climbing to his feet in a mirror image of Arthur's actions.

"And where is she now?"

Merlin smiled a little. "She had a run in with Uther. He's thinks she's coming down with the same 'illness' you have. He's had her locked in her room."

Arthur's brow creased. "And where's Guinevere?" he asked quickly.

"She's...with Morgana," Merlin groaned, realising too late the error in his plans.

Arthur was at the bars immediately, gripping them as though he would pull them apart and step through. "Merlin, go and get her out of there at once! I don't want Guinevere anywhere near Morgana! If Morgana found out about Gwen and I..."

"She knows," Merlin murmured, his face so pale it looked nearly bloodless. "She saw you and Gwen in your chambers yesterday."

"Merlin, go!" Arthur cried.

Energy surging through him, Merlin turned and made to run off down the passage. He was a fool! He'd been so caught up in the dragon's prophecy and his battle with Morgana he hadn't stopped to think about whom else was at risk. After only a few paces he was moving so quickly he nearly knocked her over.

"Gwen!"

"Merlin, what are you doing here? Arthur!"

Gwen made her way quickly to the bars on the other side of which stood Arthur, who was just as bewildered as Merlin.

"What am _I_ doing here?" Merlin cried, as Gwen's hands wrapped themselves around Arthur's and she looked up at him adoringly. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Gwen looked away from Arthur and back at Merlin. "I thought you were going to be waiting for us with the horses. Did something change?"

"What are you talking about, Guinevere?" Arthur asked, steadily. "Why would Merlin be waiting with horses?"

Gwen's face now completed a trio of confusion. "For the escape, of course," she cried, looking from Arthur to Merlin and back again. "Morgana said..."

Merlin made a sound as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

"What?" Gwen was scared now and you could hear it in her voice. "What is it? Have I made a mistake? I thought..."

Arthur shook his head, grasping Gwen's wrists through the bars to keep her still and close to him. "Morgana's against us, Guinevere. It must be a trap."

"No. She would never..." She tried to protest, she tried to mount a defence of her mistress, but even as the words left her mouth she knew they were false. She could suddenly see through every word Morgana had spoken in her rooms, every loving gesture which had been so much like the old Morgana it had warmed Gwen inside. Lies. "I feel sick."

"You need to go. Now!" Arthur commanded, his tone leaving no room for question. "Merlin, go with Guinevere and get out of here now, before it's too late."

Merlin reached out and took Gwen's arm, pulling her away from Arthur and along the passage. His heart was thumping in his chest as they ran past the cells and out into the space at the bottom of the stairs where three guards lay across the floor, liquid lying in streaked puddles across the floor by fallen tankards. Something about the scene made him pull up short.

"What did you give them?" he asked quietly, crouching down and reaching out for the throat of the nearest man.

Gwen gulped and her words came out hesitantly. "A...a sleeping draught," she stuttered. "Morgana said Gaius had prepared it..."

Merlin moved his fingers quickly from the man's neck and ran his hand through his hair. "They're dead."

Gwen cried out and clasped her hand to her mouth, her dark eyes wide with horror. Merlin clutched her hand, holding it tightly.

"It's not your fault. Come on."

His foot had only just touched the second stair when the sound of clanking armour and running feet came from above. Both servants froze, staring up the stairs into the darkness, before turning as one and running back along the passageway. Both Arthur and Cenwig were clinging to the gates of their cells when they stopped before them.

"It's too late," Merlin gasped, looking across at Arthur with horror in his eyes. "They're coming."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry about the cliff hanger! And, to make it worse, I thought I'd better let you know that there might be a wait on the next chapter. I've been struggling with it – in fact, this story and I are no longer on speaking terms! I've been trying to write a particular scene in Chapter 15 for about three weeks now and it's not working out, no matter how I approach it. So bear with me while I try to find a way to make it work. I'm kind of over it right now, but I'll try my best. Cheers.**


	15. Madness

**A/N: So, finally, here is the next chapter. I'm sorry it took this long but I really, really struggled with it. I'm still not completely happy but I felt that I just had to go ahead and post it already or the story was never going to get finished.**

**Thanks so much for the encouraging reviews. I might never have got this far without them!**

**Happy Christmas everyone!**

* * *

Chapter 15. Madness

"Unlock the door."

Prince Arthur's command took Cenwig by surprise. It seemed to do the same to the servant boy, Merlin, for he stood looking back at his master blankly for a moment.

"The keys, Merlin," Arthur explained, and Cenwig could see his hand pointing out from between the bars. "Guinevere has the keys."

This piece of information seemed to have been forgotten by everyone but the Prince and upon his urging the maid sprang to life and held forth the bunch of keys she had been clutching in her hand. Cenwig watched on as she and Merlin began working through the small collection, their shaking fingers doing their best to isolate the key to Arthur's cell. He looked anxiously along the hallway, where the sound of approaching feet had reached the stairwell. He knew before the servants did that they had run out of time.

* * *

Uther made his way down the stairs at a pace which he knew he could not come close to calling dignified. At the bottom he paused and tried to ignore the wide-eyed expressions on the faces of the guards and knights he had brought with him. He looked to where Sir Leon was crouched on the floor amid three fallen guards who had obviously failed at their duty.

"Drugged?" he asked.

Sir Leon looked up at him. "Dead, Sire," he corrected.

Uther clenched his jaw a little tighter and peered along the passageway where he could make out two figures on the wrong side of the bars. Motioning with his hand, he instructed the guards to stay behind, blocking the staircase, and the knights to follow him. It was unbearable that anyone should have to witness the utter disgrace this situation was bringing upon his family, and he preferred that, seeing as he couldn't go alone, the knights accompany him now – the guards would be bound to gossip. Drawing his sword, Uther preceded cautiously, his knights following close behind him.

He moved slowly down the passageway, each pool of torchlight cast upon the floor bringing him closer to a sight he did not want to see and a confrontation he did not want to have. He could see them there, Arthur's manservant and Morgana's maid. They were not bothering to hide, nor preparing to defend themselves. They simply stood, the boy slightly in front of the girl in a protective gesture, waiting outside the cell. This son's cell.

Uther wanted to moan out loud for the pain he could feel tearing at his heart. He was sure the guards had expected anger when they gave him the information Morgana had provided about her maid's plans. He had none to give them. His heart was broken and he could feel nothing but pure agony deep within him. His son. His son! Uther's heart screamed out in anguish at this torture. He continued to close in on the would-be escapees but he was like the walking dead. His life held no meaning, he felt no emotion, he continued on only to fulfil his duty as King.

Fighting a wave of nausea, Uther came to a halt before the young pair, his knights moving in well-practiced steps to both encircle their prey and maintain absolute protection for their King. Once in their positions no one moved and no one spoke. They were waiting for him, waiting for Uther to act. Studiously avoiding the prisoner within the cell and keeping his eyes fixed, instead, on the boy standing before him, Uther drew in a steadying breath and made himself speak.

"You have both acted recklessly and with treason in your hearts," he announced. "You've acted against Camelot. In trying to free a known sorcerer..."

"Father..."

It was like a knife to his heart and his words deserted him momentarily. Uther breathed in a shaky breath and forced himself to continue. "In aiding the escape of a sorcerer you have brought disgrace upon yourselves and..."

"Father, they weren't trying..."

"You have both sealed your own fate!" Uther shouted, rushing on with his words and doing everything he could to block out the sound of that voice. "You have been found guilty of treason and will pay with your lives. Take them."

"_Please _will you listen to me?"

It was the voice of temptation. How he wanted to give in. How he wanted to turn to Arthur, to his precious son, and let his eyes drink him in, pretending that this was not happening, that his son was not lost to him. Arthur was the meaning to his life. He had lived for his son since Ygraine's death, (and even before that, though he did not want to admit it) watching him grow and trying to be the father and King he knew this son of Camelot would need. And he loved him. He loved the rambunctious child he had been, with a mop of unruly blonde hair and ambitions which outstripped his abilities, and he loved the man he had watched him grow into, a soul born into royalty and with goodness and nobility in his heart. Oh, Arthur. His whole body ached with the desire to reach through the bars and gather his son into his arms and pretend.

But he could not. He had learnt the lesson magic had had to teach him, and he had taken it to heart, never to be forgotten or underestimated. Magic knew how to speak to you. It knew how to sing to your heart and promise you that which you could otherwise only dream about. All those years ago, magic had promised him Arthur. And now it did again. But now Uther knew better than to believe magic's silken tongue, as he had done when he had fallen prey to Nimueh's allure an age ago. Magic tricked and enticed. It was fickle and served only itself. You could not trust it. Arthur had been given to him but Ygraine had been taken away, and in such a way that it appeared to be his own doing, his own design. Now magic pulled at him, trying to persuade him that his son was still his; that his bright flame still burned. Gaius had tried to convince him of the same – that this magic was a temporary affliction, unwanted and unbidden by the Prince and something which could be cured. Uther knew better. He knew his son was lost, his light extinguished. When magic had entered Arthur's soul, whenever and however that may have been, his son had been destroyed and there was no way to get him back.

Uther looked to the knights on either side of him and noted their hesitation. He suddenly regretted his decision to leave the guards behind. The men of his guard served him as their King and their employer: they served out of duty but not necessarily loyalty. The knights were different. The fealty under which they served and the code of honour and allegiance which they had sworn to uphold was taken seriously by each one of them. He knew as their King he should be able to expect obedience from the knights, but each one of them also held allegiance to Arthur, their Prince and the man whom they had fought alongside on so many occasions. There was too much emotion involved, too much misplaced sentiment.

"I said take them," he repeated, keeping his tone forceful and turning his body so it was easier to keep the prisoner out of his sight.

He heard the growl of frustration and the deep thud as a pair of hands hit the cell bars uselessly, but he still didn't turn. He watched as the knights, dutiful but uncomfortable, moved to restrain the pair of servants. All he wanted to do now was get out of the dungeons and away. He could have wept at the sound of footsteps behind him.

* * *

Merlin had seen Morgana approaching before the King had noticed her. Her eyes seemed to burn in the darkness, triumph and determination lighting them up like fire. As always, she moved with grace and surety and Merlin was struck by the sudden, painful realisation that he had underestimated her in a dreadful way.

"Morgana, I bade you remain in your chambers," the King cried, as he turned and saw his daughter approaching.

The change in Morgana was instantaneous. Her lips curved into a sorrowful smile which even Merlin would have thought was genuine if he did not know better. She reached out a hand and took one of Uther's, looping her arm through his.

"I know, My Lord, but I had to see this with my own eyes to believe it. Oh Gwen, how could you?"

Gwen practically growled at the words and Merlin managed to shift under his captor's grip enough to turn and see the fury in the girl's face.

"We both know the treachery here is not _my_ doing, Morgana," she hissed, the curls blowing across her face giving her a wild look as she glared at her mistress.

"Enough!" Uther cried. "Take these two away and lock them up. They die in the morning. Come, Morgana."

Amid Arthur's shouts of anger and Gwen's cries as Sir Leon began to steer her away towards a cell, Merlin barely made out Morgana's next words.

She'd come to a sudden halt, pulling gently on Uther's arm to stop him next to her. "I'm worried, Sire," she murmured in a confidential tone. "Will they be secure here in the dungeons?"

"Of course. I'll have them closely guarded."

"But...earlier, when Merlin accused me of magic...it was him, Sire, not I, who used magic to break the statue."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"I tried to, My Lord," Morgana said softly, her understanding tone perfectly designed to illicit the guilt which was immediately evident on Uther's face. "But he had already accused me and you were...distressed."

"So, he is a sorcerer," Uther pronounced, coldly.

"Yes, Sire. And I wonder if the cells will be secure enough to hold him. They have already shown that they are prepared to do anything to escape."

Uther nodded firmly and turned back. "Wait!"

The knight holding Merlin by the shoulders stopped still, holding him in place with consistent force. Uther walked slowly forward, his sword still clasped tight in his hand.

"We will not delay," Uther announced and Merlin suddenly knew what he would say next. "They shall be executed now. Run them through."

Merlin was aware of a flurry of movement and sound as time seemed to slow down. Gwen cried out and seemed to sag down towards the ground in Sir Leon's arms. Each of the knights seemed to turn to each other in askance and Arthur's roar was matched by the crack of lightning and explosion of thunder which shook the walls.

"Stop! You will not do this!" Arthur was more authoritative in his rage than ever and Merlin felt the knight's grip on him loosen. "Father, you _must _listen to me!"

"I will do no such thing!" Uther cried, finally turning to look at his son. "You may have fallen, but magic will not break _me_! It can take my wife, and it can take my son, but I will do my duty to Camelot come what may!"

"Magic hasn't 'taken' me, Father," Arthur beseeched, in such a tone that Merlin could hear his desperation and fear. "I'm still who I've always been. I..."

"No!" Uther advanced the last few paces until he was face to face with Arthur. "You aren't my son – you are a sorcerer. Those with magic have darkness and evil at their heart. I raised my son to be loyal and courageous..."

"You wouldn't recognise loyalty and courage if it struck you in the face!" Arthur yelled, the force of his words rushing forth like a wave which hit Merlin and all those around him as though it were a physical force. Merlin could see the tinge of gold in his master's eyes and the fury which was gripping every muscle in his body. He looked on helplessly.

"You're a coward and a liar," Arthur continued. "But at least that explains where your daughter got it from!"

Merlin watched Morgana's expression light up at those words, just as another light seemed to die in Uther's eyes. She clutched gently at Uther's sleeve and the King's hand rose to cover her own.

"That's enough," Uther muttered coldly. "I'll hear no more from you."

"So that's it?" Arthur demanded incredulously. "No denial? No explanation?"

"I am the King of Camelot," Uther declared, his ire once again piqued. "I owe no explanation. I acted in the best interests of the Kingdom and my family."

"You acted in the best interest of _yourself_," Arthur corrected. "And now you're being a fool. You'd trust Morgana over me?"

"You are a traitor to the crown!" Uther cried in utter outrage. "It was for your sake that I outlawed magic! To keep you safe; to protect you as I could not protect your mother. And look how you have repaid me! You have flouted my laws and turned against everything I have worked for. You have abandoned your principles and sought out the evil power that comes with magic! What kind of fool would I be to trust _you_ when you've embraced everything I despise? Morgana's devotion to me is beyond question but you...you are lost to me. I can hardly bear to look at you! "

Merlin could not take his eyes off Arthur's face as Uther raved. The Prince's faith in his father had already been shaken, the events of the past weeks opening his eyes to weaknesses and falsehoods that his unfaltering loyalty would never previously have allowed him to even consider. But the words now spewing forth from Uther's mouth and the look of hatred and disgust he was directing towards his son were more than just confirmation of everything Arthur had come to realise; this was an overt display of Uther's paranoia and absolute proof that the King was slipping into madness. Arthur looked wretched.

"Father," he managed, his voice weak. "She's deceiving you. Morgana is working against us. Can you not see...?"

Uther's face was red with fury. "No more from you!" he roared, turning away from his son to glare at Merlin and Gwen. "Sir Leon, run these two through! Now!"

Sir Leon remained where he was standing, his hands gripping Gwen's arms in a manner which seemed to Merlin to be gentle. His mouth was open and indecision was written across his face.

"Leon." Arthur's single word was a desperate plea.

"Now!" Uther repeated, visibly shaking with anger.

Leon remained still for a moment before shaking his head and letting out a short sigh. "Sire," he began. "I cannot..."

Uther's growl melded with the rasping sound of his sword being pulled from its sheath. "Then I will do it myself!"

Merlin's eyes widened. The King was upon him in seconds, the fingers of one hand biting into his shoulder to hold him steady and his sword pulling back for the thrust. Merlin could feel the magic building inside him, his instinctual need to protect himself fuelling it until it pulsed through his veins. When the explosion rocked the dungeons he almost thought it was he who had caused it, but as the first of the bricks began to fall he could see Arthur over the King's shoulder leaping through the gaping hole in the bars of his cell, a blaze of furious red energy surrounding him and seeping out into the broken passageway. Merlin stared in wonder at this tremendous display of power but quickly found himself with more to worry about. Arthur's magic had rendered several holes in the walls and ceiling and rubble was raining down upon them, huge chunks of solid brick plunging indiscriminately towards the floor. Leon moved quickly to cover Gwen, Morgana retreated along the passage, Uther staggered back as a lump of rock skimmed the side of his head and hit him heavily on the shoulder, and the world went black as Merlin felt himself crumpling towards the ground and a white-hot pain splitting its way through his head.

* * *

The first thing Merlin knew when he woke was pain. He felt as though his head was cracked open from just above his right temple to a point somewhere near his chin. It hurt to breathe, let alone move, the sharp rise and fall of loud voices somewhere nearby sent needles of pain through his skull and he was pretty sure he could taste blood.

The next thing he noticed was that, while most of his body was sprawled across ground which was bumpy and sharp, his poor head seemed to be comfortably cushioned by something soft and warm. This was enough to spark his curiosity and he made an effort to open his eyes. The splitting pain in his head made him groan out loud which, in turn, made the pain that much worse.

"Stay still, Merlin."

It was Gwen. Her voice was soft and he felt a warm hand touch his forehead. The comfort the gesture provided was almost worth the pain it caused. He turned his head a little on her lap and began to think about the possibility of taking another shot at opening his eyes. As the throbbing in his head subsided a little, he became more aware of the voices in the room.

"How could you do this?"

Arthur's voice was harsh and demanding, making Merlin flinch.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Arthur."

Morgana. Terrible realisation began to dawn on Merlin as the events that lead up to the blow to his head reformed themselves in his memory.

"You don't? You mean you're not trying to take Camelot for yourself?" Arthur's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't be absurd! You can't distract me from your treachery by accusing Morgana." Uther barked.

Merlin couldn't help but be surprised that the King was still in good enough shape to be talking, given the blow Merlin had seen him take when the ceiling fell. With fresh determination, he tried to push himself up off Gwen's lap but succeeded only in reducing himself to a pathetic whimper. Gwen shushed him and he forced his lips together firmly.

"You can't win, Arthur," Morgana voice murmured, and Merlin was fairly confident Uther was the only one in the room who would miss the true meaning of her words.

"And you think _you_ can? Surely you don't think Morgause is doing all this for you? Even you aren't that stupid, Morgana."

"Have you lost your mind entirely?" Uther shouted. "Has the magic warped you so much you actually believe such nonsense?"

"She's behind all this! She and Morgause."

"Guards!" Uther shouted. More shafts of hot pain. "Take this lunatic! Did you honestly think for one moment that I would believe Morgana would do such a thing?"

The laugh Merlin recognised as Arthur's was utterly incredulous, as though the hopelessness of his situation was becoming more and more apparent to him. Knowing he was needed, Merlin put in one more effort and managed to get himself into a semi-upright position. He slipped back a little as his elbow gave way, but Gwen moved up behind him and he was able to lean back against her shoulder.

"Uther, please..."

Gaius. When had he arrived? But the King was not about to listen to him. When Merlin next heard Uther speak his voice was a low hiss. As Merlin ignored the pain and forced his eyes open a crack, he could make out the shape of the King as he advanced slowly on the fiercely upright and slightly glowing figure he knew to be Arthur.

"I know what you're trying to do. You've taken Ygraine, you've taken Arthur..."

Gaius, whom Merlin could make out standing shoulder to shoulder with Arthur, broke in. "Uther, this _is_ Arthur. Surely you must realise..."

"And now," Uther continued, apparently oblivious to his physician's words, "now you're trying to take from me the only kin I have left. You cannot turn me against Morgana. You cannot take her from me!"

Gwen breathed in sharply as they both watched Arthur take an involuntary step backwards as his father drew closer and his fevered ranting became louder.

"Morgana knows what I have done has been for the good of the kingdom. Morgana knows I did what I had to do to protect her! The secrets I have kept, the evil users of magic I have had put to death – it has all been necessary! What is the life of a sorcerer – be they man, woman or child – compared to the life of a good, law-abiding person?"

Merlin moved his aching head and let his eyes take a moment to focus on where Morgana stood, some yards from Arthur, the third point in the aggressive triangle the three royals had formed. Her chin was held high and her eyes were sharp. Merlin guessed it was taking every ounce of self-control she possessed for her not to react to Uther's words.

"You are trying to test me, but I will not succumb," Uther went on. "I will not question Morgana's loyalty because magic has told me to! Morgana is grateful for all that I have done to protect her from magic and she would never take the side of an evil, malicious creature like the witch Morgause!"

Merlin could feel it coming. He could feel the magic rising within her. And so he was not surprised when he saw her mouth open in a cry of rage and her hand push out from her body. The energy flew from her palm and hit Uther with force, lifting him from his feet and sweeping him the short distance to the brick wall behind him. He sank to the ground in a manner which was almost graceful, his body folding itself into an unnatural position as it came to rest.

Merlin made a desperate effort to get to his feet. As he struggled on the rubble he could see the burst of red light that flew out from Arthur. He saw Morgana deflect it and send it into a pillar which shook precariously. Gaius retreated a safe distance away and looked on with anxious eyes.

"You shouldn't play with things you don't understand, Arthur," Morgana snapped, her voice cold and focussed. "Come now, don't glare at me like that. Really, you should be thanking me."

Merlin made it to his knees and looked up to see the glow around Arthur flare at the condescending tone of Morgana's voice. "For trying to get me killed?"

"For showing you the truth about your father."

"And the truth about you?"

"You haven't begun to see the truth about me, Arthur Pendragon."

"Oh, I know the truth about you, Morgana. You're a liar and a traitor. You've turned your back on your family..."

"Family!" Morgana's anger was tangible. "I don't have a family! I have a mass-murdering, lying lunatic for a father and a 'brother' who lives his life with his eyes shut, desperately trying to win his daddy's approval so he can make up for killing his mother!"

Then it was all light. Red balls of light arcing across the space between the two siblings and radiant golden sheets of energy coming back the other way, sparks flying and the ground shaking as the walls and ceiling sustained one hit after another. Lunging forward, Merlin made it to his feet but slipped and only avoided collapse when a strong hand caught his right elbow and held him up. He turned to see Sir Cenwig, his green eyes wide and shocked, and they ducked in unison as one of Arthur's deflected shots flew over their heads.

Sir Leon appeared on Merlin's left.

"What do we do?"

But nearly before the knight had finished speaking, there was a colossal crash and the pillar two yards to Arthur's right crumbled, bring with it a large portion of the ceiling.

"Arthur!" Gwen and Leon cried simultaneously.

Merlin acted his quickly as he could.

"_Ábýgeþ_," he whispered, focussing his energy on the falling stone.

He watched as the majority of the debris fell harmlessly to one side of the Prince and then felt his heart leap into his mouth as Arthur took the blows of the stone he hadn't been fast enough to deflect, staggered and fell to the ground.

Gaius, Cenwig, Leon and Gwen all made it to Arthur's side before Merlin, stumbling terribly as his head pounded and his vision swam, could reach his master. He tried to see past their heads as they crouched around the Prince but he couldn't make anything out and his body didn't seem to want to cooperate in lowering itself down into a similar position.

"Gaius? Is he all right?" he asked in desperation. "Tell me!"

"Of course I'm all right, Merlin," Arthur's weary voice came from somewhere beneath the gathered heads. Slowly everyone began to move back and Arthur's ruffled head emerged and he pushed himself up. "No thanks to you."

Merlin felt almost giddy with relief. Or perhaps that was the concussion? Whatever the case, he gratefully accepted the supporting arm Leon offered him and stood back and watched as Gaius examined the King.

"He's alive," Gaius announced quickly. "It doesn't look to be anything too serious, Sire."

Arthur nodded grimly. "Did anyone see Morgana leave?"

"She went up the stairs as soon as the pillar fell," Cenwig said.

"Then we need to hurry. Leon, I want you to stay with my father. Get Gaius anything he needs and try your best to keep him in the Citadel should he wake."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Merlin, you're not going to be a girl about that nick on your head are you?"

Merlin replied with what he hoped came across as a sardonic grimace.

"Then you come with me. We're going after Morgana."

"I'm coming too."

Arthur looked down at Gwen for a long moment as she stood close by his side, her face upturned and determined.

"Fine," he said eventually, squeezing Gwen's arm in a familiar gesture. "But get yourself a sword. You need to remember that Morgana will do anything, hurt anyone, to get what she wants. She's not the same person she was and anything we've been to her in the past doesn't matter anymore. She wants revenge and she wants the crown."

Arthur stepped over the pile of rubble and began to stride along the passageway.

"But I'm not going to give it up without a fight."


	16. Pursuit

**A/N: There's been an inexcusable delay in getting this next chapter up. I'm really sorry it's taken so long. If anyone is still interested in reading, here's Chapter 16...**

Chapter 16. Pursuit

The forest was dark, barely any light making it through the thick canopy of trees above them, but they were riding fast. Morgana could not be too far ahead and Cenwig – who had insisted on accompanying them – and Arthur were leading the way and pushing them on faster and faster. Merlin fought back the rising tide of nausea that the blow to his head seemed to have brought about and did his best to blink away the shreds of white light that were flying around the outsides of his vision. To his right, Gwen was riding with determination, her eyes fixed ahead of her and her brow furrowed, but Merlin's eyes were roving ceaselessly, probing each suspicious shadow and constantly surveying his companions.

Yards ahead, Arthur was doing the same. Usually so focussed and unwavering, Arthur could now be seen allowing his gaze to travel around them, his distraction making him obviously frustrated and uncomfortable. It sent a wave of shock through Merlin to realise that Arthur could feel it too. This new, magical Arthur knew that there was a strange energy in the air. He, too, knew that something was coming their way, something they'd need to be ready for. Merlin felt an odd combination of companionship and guilt wash over him and looked away from Arthur. He murmured a quick spell to improve his night vision and gazed ahead, trying his best to ignore the strange rustling at the top of the trees on this windless night and the shivers of nervous energy which were shooting along his limbs.

* * *

Morgause could feel her magic throbbing about her. It was as though she had triumphed over the confines of her physical body and had become something else; something more. Her eyes were closed but she could see herself – a tumultuous blaze of magical energy, eternal and invincible. Drawing on the strength she held at her core, she focussed, quieting herself and becoming still. She was there. Now was the time.

She felt, rather than heard, the words she spoke; the simplicity of the ancient tongue making the command even more direct.

"_Rán __úre __sáwol __æt mec, Arthur Pendragon_."

She knew with absolute certainty that he could not deny her, could not withstand her strength or her magic. She was almighty. Her light banished the darkness of the night. Her heat charred the trees around her and sent the ashes of their leaves flying to the ends of the Earth on the squall of wind that broke forth from her core. Her energy was streaming all the way to Camelot and she could feel him there, on the outskirts of her being, within her reach. Everything was within her reach.

Calling on the forces of the land, the ancients gone ahead, the magic which bound the world together, she demanded what was hers. Her voice assaulting the earth like a crash of violent thunder, she again laid her claim to the soul of Arthur Pendragon.

"_Rán __úre __sáwol __æt mec!"_

For a moment it was there, laid open before her. A blinding white light, honest and courageous. Simple. So pathetically simple. She pulled a little harder on the magical bond which linked them, and the edges of his soul began to bleed out towards her, yielding obediently, as she had known it would.

It was then that it hit her. Raw, furious energy. A wall of vibrant red light surging forward and forcing itself between them, putting a stop to the ebb of essence away from Pendragon and pushing her back. It was relentless and angry and she could feel herself crumpling, folding in on herself under its pressure and being reduced. Her reach shrank. The power left her. Fragile, she felt her aching limbs hit the forest floor. Exhausted and filled with fury, Morgause did not try to suppress the raw howl that rose up within her.

* * *

"Arthur. Arthur, what's wrong?"

Gwen's voice shook him back to life. Even as he looked at her, the cold chill which had gripped him so suddenly seemed to leave him and he realised he had been holding his breath.

"Are you alright, Sire? You pulled up your horse so suddenly – did you see something?"

Arthur shifted his gaze to Cenwig and then back to Guinevere. They both looked concerned and mystified. There was no fear in either of their gazes. It occurred to him that it hadn't happened to them. They hadn't seen the blinding light or felt the internal unravelling which had left him feeling queasy. _He_ had been the only one falling apart. Arthur breathed out slowly. The moonlight which was filtering through to them from above gave everything a ghostly and ethereal quality, which did nothing to help him regather his wits. But another look at Guinevere's increasingly worried face reminded him of his duty. Uncurling his fingers so that his nails were no longer biting into his palm, Arthur forced his lips into a half-smile he knew would look unconvincing. It was the best he could do.

"I'm fine."

Gwen chewed on her lip a little, a frown marring her pretty face. Arthur put a little more effort into the smile.

"Honestly."

It was then that he looked over Cenwig's shoulder and saw Merlin. The boy's face was white – whiter than usual – and his eyes were wide. He looked pained and shocked. Their eyes locked and Arthur was filled with the sudden conviction that Merlin knew exactly what had just happened. Merlin had watched the grip take hold of him, knew the terror which had filled him. He had seen the ease with which the power had defeated him and the pathetic submission he had been forced into. Arthur felt simultaneously exposed and comforted. He was gripped by the ridiculous desire to ask his manservant what had just happened; to ask him to explain the insidious hold which had overtaken him and the burning-hot blaze of fury which had beaten it back. But what would Merlin know about it? Why should he expect his servant to have the answer?

As though reading his mind, in that irritating way he had, Merlin's rattled expression rearranged itself into a shaky smile. He looked the same as always – goofy and oblivious – but at that moment Arthur knew there was more there than he had seen before. There was something about those unswerving blue eyes and that ridiculous grin...something that he couldn't work out for the life of him. But he felt he was about to find out.

* * *

Morgause dropped down into the high-backed chair and stared briefly at the fire before lurching to her feet and storming towards the window. There she stopped still, leaning slightly against the cold stone wall. Her mind was in turmoil. She had been warned against this course of action, told by the elders that she could not command such magic without risks, that success was unlikely. She had known different.

They were cowards. Used bravely, this magic could secure them what they had all been wanting for so long – an end to the war against magic, freedom for all the magical peoples and a return to the _rightful_ order of things. With magic holding the crown of Camelot, the other Kingdoms would soon fall. Those, such as Cenred, whom it had been necessary to humour in order to further the cause, could be disposed of and magic would hold the highest offices throughout the land. It was all there to be gained if only...

She had not heard the door swing open, but the sound of footsteps drew her from her contemplation. He came to a halt some yards from her.

"It didn't work," he said simply, a statement more than a question.

She swallowed as much of the irritation as she could. "No. No, it did not." She turned to look at him, and felt her fervour rise in the face of his characteristic stoicism. "But it could have. I was so close...he was yielding to me and then..."

He waited only a short while as the silence extended. "And then _what_?"

"And then...something stopped me."

"Could he have more ability than you predicted?"

"No, it wasn't him," she laughed scornfully. "It was someone else. Someone close to him."

She remembered the feeling as she had felt herself diminishing, beaten back and confined once again within her body. She had known then that the energy which had fended her off was entirely different from the Prince's and yet...it moved to the same beat as Arthur Pendragon's, perfectly synchronised.

"How close?"

She looked across at Arlen. He had been her only supporter when she had summoned them all to the Isle of the Blessed, and a sceptical one at that. She was not convinced he truly wanted her to succeed and his impassive demeanour as he questioned her now did nothing to change that.

"Someone who was watching him," she explained carefully. "Someone who guarding him, perhaps."

Arlen raised his head and met her gaze. "Emrys," he breathed.

Irritation once again surged through Morgause's body. "Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "Even if that prophecy is true..."

"It has been foretold," Arlen insisted firmly.

"_Even_ if it's true," Morgause continued, choosing to ignore her advisor, "it has not yet come to pass. We would know if Arthur Pendragon had such a magical protector at his side."

"Do you not think there have been signs of that already?" Arlen asked, a hint of incredulous humour laced through his words. "Your most recent defeat not the least? You yourself have just suggested that he is being watched and guarded."

"You are twisting my words," Morgause accused, her eyes widening.

"I am not. You are closing your eyes to the most obvious of answers."

"Emrys is not a concern for us yet, and if I can succeed in my plan, he never will be!"

"How can you be so sure he is not yet at Arthur's side?"

"Because," Morgause cried, her voice ringing off the stone walls, "Morgana sees everything within those castle walls and she would have told me if there was a sorcerer at Arthur's side, do you not think?"

"Perhaps," Arlen conceded. "But perhaps she is keeping you as well informed as you are keeping her?"

Morgause's fists clenched at her sides. "I have explained to you all already why I have chosen not to tell Morgana the full extent of my plan."

Arlen's lips curled slightly. "And not a word of it the truth. We are not fools, Morgause. You have not told Morgana your true motive because you will have no need of her if you succeed. If you were to take possession of Arthur Pendragon in such a way that allows you to control his actions, his thoughts, his very emotions, what possible need would you have for his poor, unacknowledged half-sister?"

"You forget yourself, Arlen. I have never asked for your council," Morgause spat.

"No," Arlen agreed, "only our approval and assistance. And this is why you did not receive it – your plan is wild and driven only by visions of your own greatness. The magic you used you do not fully understand and you showed it too little respect. Yes, you now have access to Arthur Pendragon's soul should you be able to beat his apparent defences, but to gain that access you have caused unfathomable disarray. The bond between you is dangerous and can be exploited."

"He is not capable of challenging me!" Morgause cried. "Surely you know that?"

"How can I know that?" Arlen retorted, his voice growing louder. "He has access to your magic, Morgause! How can you minimise the implications of that? Yes, it may work to your advantage in destroying the relationship between Uther and his son, possibly even putting Arthur in danger, but it was too large a price to pay!"

"There was no way to avoid it!" Morgause shouted, her face locked in a fierce frown. "To create the link with him there had to be some flow in the opposite direction. He may have some of my magic, but soon I will possess his very being!"

"You have created too great an unbalance, Morgause," Arlen sighed, suddenly quiet. "I fear this cannot now be mended."

"Then go back into hiding, Arlen! Take your fears and go and live your small, meaningless existence. I take risks in order to achieve great things. You – you and the others – you are too scared to make a challenge and so you achieve nothing."

Arlen bowed his head and observed his hands, folded neatly in front of him. "There are many, Morgause, who are willing to wait in relative peace."

"Wait for what?" Morgause snapped.

"For Emrys. For Emrys and the Once and Future King. Perhaps we do not need to make a challenge. Perhaps we need only to wait for change to be brought about by those who are destined to do it."

Morgause shook her head disparagingly. "So you'll place all your hopes on the shoulders of one man who exists only in prophecies? You'll sit back and wait for him to lead us into a new age?"

"Yes. And _you_ will do everything you can to steal power before he has a chance to fulfil his destiny. There is no nobility in what you are doing, Morgause."

Morgause's eyes narrowed and she looked at the unreadable face of the old sorcerer. "Get out."

Arlen nodded and turned slowly away, only to stop a few yards from the door. "You may want to calm yourself a little, Morgause, so that you are free to receive the messages your young spy has no doubt been trying to send to you."

"What do you mean?" Morgause had turned to the window but looked back quickly at Arlen's words.

He turned only his head so that Morgause could see the profile of his face, calm and composed. "Camelot is in chaos. Your little bird has flown and the Prince is in pursuit. Perhaps the new age is closer at hand than either of us thought?" After a brief stretch of silence, he continued towards the door and was gone.

* * *

Merlin stared back at Arthur, his chest heaving with exertion from the magical battle he had just fought and only vaguely aware of Cenwig and Guinevere who were sitting atop their horses in between them and beginning to look back and forth in confusion. Arthur was gazing back at him unswervingly with an expression of puzzlement which Merlin had seen before. What he _hadn't_ seen before was the look of burgeoning enlightenment which was writing itself across his face.

For years, it had all slipped past him: unexplained disappearances, unlikely victories, miraculous escapes and unbelievable excuses. Countless perfectly timed falling branches, defeated sorcerers and slain magical beasts. For years every single spell had eluded him no matter how obvious or badly hidden, and now, now in the midst of a whirlwind of inexplicable magical happenings which seemed to be coming at them from all directions, Arthur notices a wave of magic coming to his defence and for no apparent reason..he sees Merlin in it.

Or at least, he begins to. Merlin sees the question in Arthur's eyes; he knows he wants to ask for an explanation, for understanding, for help. And Merlin realises this is the time. If he asks now, he's going to tell him the truth. His heart thumping ridiculously loudly inside his chest, he watches the Prince's lips part and hears him say his name.

"Merlin..."

"Sire," Cenwig's voice cut in over the top of Arthur's. "Forgive me, but we _must_ keep moving. Lady Morgana didn't have much of a lead on us but if we delay now we may lose her."

Arthur stared at Merlin for a moment longer, his questions still on his tongue, before breaking the gaze and turning his attention to Cenwig. "Of course. You're right. We can't afford to let her get away from us."

Merlin closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or desperately disappointed. Running a hand up through his hair, Merlin let out a deep sigh and urged his horse forward as the others made off again through the forest. As he stared into the darkness before them, painfully aware now of the need to stay alert, he didn't notice Arthur look over his shoulder at him, his forehead creased and his eyes rimmed with gold.

* * *

Morgana gazed desperately around the clearing, her mount moving anxiously beneath her as he picked up on Morgana's energy. She had been sure Morgause would be here already. She had paused outside Camelot to send the message, whispering the words her sister had taught her carefully and with feeling. Perhaps she had made a mistake? Or maybe Morgause was too far away to have travelled the distance quickly? There must be a reason. She wouldn't just abandon her.

Urging her horse forward, Morgana moved on, the dappled moonlight falling across her as she went. There was another place not much further on, a glade near a cave where they had met before. Morgause might be waiting there. Besides, she had to keep moving – there were sounds coming from the forest behind her and she knew they couldn't be far away. Pulling up her horse, Morgana held up her right hand in the direction she had just come and murmured a few words. A fluid silver substance flowed away from her and then disappeared. After one last anxious look, Morgana turned back to face her destination and rode on through the clearing.

* * *

The trees were beginning to thin out and Merlin thought he could make out a wide patch of grass and bushes opening up not too far in front of them. Arthur and Cenwig were pushing on now, their pace picking up as the horses were able to move more freely and find their footing more easily. Squinting into the darkness, Merlin made out a brief flash of purple on the far side of the clearing. He wasn't the only one to see it.

"There, just ahead!" Cenwig called out. "Did you see that?"

The young knight, his enthusiasm abundant, even in these circumstances, took the lead and made off in pursuit. Merlin saw Arthur's hand move instinctively to the hilt of his sword, and wondered, not for the first time, what the Prince would do if he did manage to catch his quarry.

Seconds later, the cry which broke through the heavy atmosphere of the forest took Merlin by surprise. He watched helplessly as Sir Cenwig and his horse came up against what seemed to be an invisible wall and tumbled in an indistinguishable heap towards the bracken ground. Arthur pulled his horse up sharply and swung quickly to the ground. By the time Merlin had done the same, Arthur had hooked the young man under the arms and pulled him clear of this floundering horse.

"Cenwig?" Arthur demanded, his voice clear and authoritative. "Look at me. Are you alright?"

Winded, the young knight nodded his head and did his best to sit up straight. One hand propping him up, he used the other to wave them on. "Go on," he managed. "Don't let her...away."

Arthur, Gwen and Merlin shared only a brief look before doing just as he asked. Leading his horse, Arthur walked forward carefully, the blade of his sword pointed out in front of him. Once he was past the spot where Cenwig had been knocked down, he turned and looked back.

"It's gone. Ride carefully though, there may be more." And then, more to Gwen than to Merlin: "Make sure you stay behind me."

* * *

Morgana could hear the riders behind her. If her barricade had worked, it had not bought her much time. Frantically she looked around the glade. She wasn't there. How could she not be there? Morgause had promised.

The sound of horses forcing their way through the undergrowth grew louder. Drawing back her shoulders, Morgana breathed deeply and then dropped to the ground. Raising her hand, Morgana conjured another barricade before her and then used the time left to her to try once again to contact Morgause. Steadying her breathing as best she could and clasping Morgause's amulet to her chest, Morgana used her magic to reach out again for help.

She was desperate and her words came out muddled, but this time it felt different; freer and more flowing. It was as though a blockage had been cleared, the world quieted to let her message travel. As the words died on her lips she felt a flush of energy break over her.

"_I am coming, sister."_

Morgana's lips curled into a soft smile and she felt whatever sense of betrayal she had allowed to enter her earlier flee. The smooth lines of the amulet felt comforting to her touch. She would not be alone for long. She should have known better than to doubt Morgause. They had already achieved so much and soon this would be over. Soon Camelot would fall.

"Morgana."

At the sound of Arthur's voice, she looked up and saw him standing on the other side of the clearing, sword in hand and flanked closely by Merlin and Gwen. His gaze was furious but there was no fear in her heart. She raised her chin and met his gaze steadily.

"Brother."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked it. I will try my best to get the next chapter happening quickly. Reviews would be lovely if you have the time.**


	17. Emrys

**A/N: I found this chapter **_**so**_** hard to write but I've finally got my act together. Thanks to the people who have been giving me nudges, and for the reviews/favourites etc. Hope you all like.**

* * *

Chapter 17. Emrys

It was hard to breathe. Gwen lifted up her chin and sucked in cold air easily but it seemed to snap and twist inside her lungs leaving her chest heavy and aching. She let it rush back out of her body and for a moment thought she could see the particles dance and spiral as they moved back out into the suddenly cavernous clearing. But her head was spinning and her skin beginning to prickle and it was hard to tell what was real from what she was imagining.

For surely this couldn't all be real. It couldn't. But it was.

Morgana – Morgana whom she had held and comforted after terrors in the night, one hand on her smooth, straight locks and the other clasped around her trembling shoulders – was bearing down on them from yards away, her eyes burning with an ice-cold fury which made her seem more than just a human being, so much taller and more powerful, her skin translucent and her anger a magic all of its own. And Arthur, her Arthur, was pulsing with a light so bright it hurt her eyes to look at him, his voice raw with a rage which knew no restraint as he answered Morgana's hysterical accusations. At his right hand, inexplicably energized by this terrifying display of magic, brought to radiant life rather than compressed and suffocated, stood Merlin, his eyes darting between the two combatants as though he were ready to throw himself into the fray without fear should the opportunity arise.

Gwen could feel the fear rising up in her throat. It felt as though everything had been slipping out of control throughout the night and now, as they stood there in the clearing, magic humming about them, she could see how easily this could all go terribly wrong. She was scared for Arthur. They weren't playing games with flowers and songbirds now – this was life and death.

As Arthur and Morgana shouted at each other, the same words, the same argument over and over again, no ground gained or conceded, the thrum of magic in the clearing intensified. But, while Arthur's magic arced and snapped around him as though searching for an outlet he did not know how to provide, Morgana's pulsed adeptly into thin lightning bolts which shot forward and peppered the ground around their feet with only a flick of her wrists to direct them.

"You have _had_ your chance, Arthur!" Morgana cried, her voice ringing in Gwen's ears, at once alien and painfully familiar. "You've had years to step out from behind Uther's cloak and make your stand!"

"Oh, spare me, Morgana," Arthur spat, the brittle tension he was forcing into the air rubbing Gwen's skin uncomfortably. "Who are you to judge me?"

"Who am I? I am every person your father every slaughtered out of cowardice! I am every soul you chose not to fight for!"

"And you Morgana? You fought for them?"

"I am fighting now," Morgana said firmly, pulling her shoulders back and suddenly dropping her barrage of lightning bolts. When she spoke again her voice was dangerously composed. "Uther must die to restore justice to the land, and you with him. And _I_ will see it done."

The warrior in Arthur seemed to know enough to recognise the danger in the abrupt ceasefire but he had no magical tactics to fall back upon. For a moment it seemed to Gwen that he was struggling to know how to proceed, but it was quickly taken from his hands.

"You're wrong, Morgana." Merlin's voice was clear, forceful and unexpected and Gwen wondered again how it was that Merlin's very being shone so brightly in the presence of magic which only stifled and smothered her. "This isn't what magic is for. You're looking for power, not justice!"

Morgana's laugh was scathing and furious. "You are a fine one to talk, Merlin."

"Think what you like, Morgana," Merlin shouted back. "It doesn't change anything. You and Morgause are using your power to hurt and control people – you're no better than Uther!"

The cry of rage was deafening and Gwen's hands were reflexively moving to cover her ears when one of the bolts of lightning which flew from Morgana's suddenly outstretched hands hit the ground by her feet and knocked her back to fall heavily upon the dirt.

"Guinevere!"

Arthur moved towards her. Another bolt hit the ground between them. Gwen cried out, her voice not her own and Arthur turned, raising his hand, and the fury written on his face launched itself from his palm in the form of solid ball of flame which flew towards his half-sister with blinding speed.

* * *

Arthur wasn't thinking: he was fighting. Since he was strong enough to wield a wooden sword as he followed his father around the training field he had been taught to treat his weapon as an extension of his arm, of his own being. Now his magic was his weapon and his reach was great.

The fire coursed forth into his hands and he cast it from his body with long strokes of his arms. The ground shook beneath his feet and some part of him knew that he was the one disturbing it. Next to him Merlin held his ground without fear. Morgana stood before him, hurling her magic back at him. He fought harder. He could barely stand to look at her. He hated her. He wanted her dead.

* * *

The exchange of fire was fast and rash, the strange light produced by the half-siblings' magic a hot glow and to Merlin it all felt so natural. He watched with wide eyes as volleys were launched, his own magic itching and writhing within him as it tried to get out even as he fought it back. Though only seconds were passing, he saw it all unfolding slowly, the strange euphoria produced by being this close to so much raw and unrestrained magic heightening his senses and thrilling his blood.

An orb of Arthur's fire arced through the air and a tree on the far side of the clearing toppled over, its roots exposed and flames licking at its branches. To its left, embers rose into the dark sky as its neighbour smouldered. A wry smile broke out on Merlin's face. Arthur had no idea how to make his magic shut up, but he could use it to attack with astonishing ease. Typical.

As though sensing his untimely amusement, Morgana dispatched a sharp silver-blue bolt in his direction and the need to lurch quickly to one side wiped the smile from his face. It glanced off the side of his shoulder, sending a shaft of pain through into his chest which only made his magic rebel more wildly.

To his left, Arthur seemed possessed by his magic and his anger, one indistinguishable from the other. His eyes were permanently rimmed with gold and the impatient thrum of energy around him was gone, transformed into something purposeful and real. Morgana was standing tall on the other side of the clearing, her magic working frantically and her arms pushing forth one razor-sharp shaft after another, but with a statuesque and composed look about her which reminded Merlin of Nimueh.

Merlin felt almost giddy. This was...glorious. The magic made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, his blood spark as it ran through his veins. Everything had changed. They had so much power. Morgana could fight all she wanted but she could not win against the pair of them. Not now. They were invincible, he and Arthur and the world was about to change.

It wasn't until he looked around and met Gwen's terrified gaze that his senses caught up with him. She was still on the ground, crouching amid the leaf litter a few yards back from Arthur, and looking across at him with dark eyes filled with panic. She looked so scared and so full of dread as she looked on. Merlin turned back to Arthur and it shocked him to see how completely alien he looked. The Great Dragon's words came rushing back to him as loudly as if the ancient beast had been standing before him: _Arthur_ _cannot wield this magic, it is not made for him, nor he for it_.

It was as though he had been shocked sober by a bucket of ice-cold water.

Fear beginning to pulse through him, Merlin realised how much danger they were in, and how badly the magic had distorted his view. Arthur was acting out of sheer emotion; emotion which had been corrupted and intensified by Morgause in her meddling. Just like the incident in the Hall when he had raised the swords to attack his father, or when he had pulled Merlin from his feet and nearly strangled him to death, Arthur had been taken over and had lost control. This wasn't what Arthur _wanted_; it was an exaggeration of the way he felt. And when had the real Arthur – dutiful, disciplined, magically-naive – ever allowed himself to be controlled by how he _felt_?

Merlin felt sick to his stomach. The depth of the magic and his own anger had blinded him to the truth. Worse than that, he'd allowed the implicit acceptance he saw in Arthur's embrace of magic to distract him from the danger they were in. Arthur had no control over any of this. Merlin cursed himself inwardly and began to search for a way out.

He couldn't let Arthur find out about his magic now; not when he had no idea what his reaction might be. But would Arthur even notice if he were to use his magic to help him now? The battle between the two siblings was fast and furious. Lights seemed to fly from all directions, the ground shook violently beneath their feet, rending deep, cavernous gashes through the earth. Arthur seemed consumed by the magic. If Merlin were to intervene, would he even recognise the magic as not his own?

A crack sounded as Morgana's magic struck a tree behind them and shards of wood flew in every direction. Merlin ducked briefly, his arms raised protectively over his head, and it was when he looked up again that he saw Cenwig moving amid the undergrowth on the far side of the clearing. The young knight, left behind in the forest a short time before, had caught up with them and was now only a few yards behind Morgana, his sword drawn and a wide-eyed but determined look on his face. Merlin's eyes flicked to Morgana. She was focussed only on Arthur, one hand held up to maintain a thin glowing shield as two golden orbs flew towards her. Cenwig drew closer and for a brief moment he was staring straight at Merlin. The young warlock nodded slightly and Cenwig closed the final distance between him and Morgana.

Suddenly, after time having slowed for him so that each movement and detail had been strikingly accentuated, Merlin found everything happening so quickly he could hardly take it in. Cenwig put the tip of his sword to Morgana's back and reached out to place his free hand on her shoulder. Startled, Morgana started to turn, dropping her shield. The ground shook again, a last ball of fire from Arthur struck the ground before her feet and she fell – they both did – pushed forcefully backward and then they were a tangle of limbs on the ground, Cenwig giving an anguished cry and the steel glinting in the light of the burning trees behind them as the blood poured forth.

Then there was quiet, only a series of short ragged breaths breaching the silence. The magic abandoned them all and Merlin felt the air cool dramatically. No one moved.

"Morgana."

Arthur's voice was weak and broken. Merlin turned to look at him and he could see the toll the magic had taken on him – he looked as though he were struggling to the surface after being held a long while under water. His face was pale and his eyes sunken. His right hand shook slightly as he forced himself forward and began to walk towards the fallen pair with unsteady steps.

Merlin reached out a hand to steady Gwen as she staggered to her feet and they followed Arthur as he made his way across the clearing. It was Morgana. He knew that it was her before he could distinguish between the two bodies, before he was close enough to make out the point of Cenwig's sword sticking out of her abdomen and the widening patch of blood covering her bodice.

"Morgana."

Arthur fell to his knees before his sister but didn't touch her. She was looking up at him as she panted for breath, her eyes wide and stricken. Her hands were clutching uselessly at her stomach.

"I...I..." Cenwig struggled to his knees behind her but kept hold of Morgana, supporting her head against his chest. "I didn't mean... She was thrown backwards and I..."

Arthur shook his head to dismiss the young man's concerns but never took his eyes from Morgana. She was gasping from the pain, her dark hair strewn about her face, a frame for her beautiful and bewildered features. Her mouth opened and closed but the only sound that came out was a helpless whimper from the back of her throat.

Merlin found himself shaking his head gently from side to side as he watched Morgana's life flood out of her along with the blood which was now pooling on the dirt beneath her. It felt surreal and he took no pleasure in it. But this time...this time he couldn't feel sorry for her. Standing at his right, her hand pressed to her lips but her features composed, Gwen looked on with dark eyes. She must have felt his eyes upon her for she turned and looked back at him and Merlin knew in an instant that she felt the same way.

At that moment Morgana cried out, a high-pitched gasp, raw and desperate.

"We have to do something. Merlin?" Arthur looked back around at where he and Gwen were standing. His face was as pale as Morgana's and the sudden dissipation of his anger, the glassy horror in his eyes, made him look more of a shell than ever. "Merlin, what can we do?"

Merlin swallowed hard, his eyes flicking from Arthur to Morgana and back again. "Arthur, I don't think..."

"There isn't anything," Gwen broke in as Merlin's voice faltered, quiet and compassionate. She took a few steps forward and reached out a hand to rest on Arthur's shoulder, her thumb near the nape of his neck. "She's too badly hurt. There isn't anything we can do for her now, Arthur."

Arthur must have known this already. He'd seen enough wounds, known enough death. But still his face registered shock. He stared back at Gwen for only a moment before turning back to his sister and slowly, almost hesitantly, reaching out a hand. Morgana watched with wide eyes as he touched his fingers to the back of one of her blood stained hands but she didn't flinch or protest. Then, without warning, her head tilted back and she stared up at the black night sky.

Merlin, too, felt her approach before the wind hit them. His reached out for Gwen, his heart suddenly pounding a new rhythm within his chest.

"Arthur! Look out!"

But Morgause, her hair wild and the voluminous folds of her black gown swirling around her, was upon them before anyone had time to move, appearing from the wind as though she held command of the elements themselves. She seemed to take it all in as soon as she laid eyes on them, the small group clustered around her fallen sister, and her scream was one of fury.

"_Wiþblæwe."_

Her right hand pushed forth from her body and the wind she had arrived with surged forth. It was directed straight at Arthur and the strength of it hit him and Gwen head on, lifting their bodies from the ground as easily as if they were leaves and throwing them some twenty yards back, where they lay unmoving. Merlin had time only to brace himself before Morgause waved her arm in a sweeping gesture and he was knocked backwards off his feet, his body hitting the ground with a solid thump which knocked the air from his lungs.

Gasping, Merlin heaved his body up onto one elbow and saw Morgause's hand drop onto the head of a defenceless and bewildered Cenwig, whose body immediately slumped to one side, his eyes wide and his body lifeless.

"Morgana. What have they done to you?"

Morgause gathered her sister into her arms, an urgent hand assessing the wound, growing realisation marring her face. Merlin heard her gasp.

"I should have been here sooner, Sister. I should have been here."

The two women's eyes were locked together, Morgause's long blonde tendrils falling to touch the side of Morgana's face. Morgana's eyes widened and her mouth opened in a mute cry of pain as her body stiffened.

Taking advantage of Morgause' focus on Morgana, Merlin eased himself up a little on his elbows, hissing as a sharp pain shot through his ribcage. Yards away, Arthur and Gwen were lying still in the undergrowth at the edge of the clearing. He wanted to check on them, to make sure they were alright and try to work out a way for them all to get to safety, but as his eyes flicked back to Morgause his instinct was roaring at him to go a different route.

Morgause was still murmuring to Morgana, whose eyes were now closed, her body limp and wilting. She was gathering her up tightly in her arms and Merlin knew what she was planning to do. In seconds they would be gone, making a magical retreat so that Morgause could attempt to heal Morgana's terrible wound. But if Morgause went now her destructive link with Arthur would remain. Arthur would still be tormented by this magic and Morgause would be free to keep manipulating him. And she could attack him again, striking him with whatever magic Merlin had had to throw himself against earlier in the woods, whatever had left Arthur looking like a corpse sitting atop his horse. He couldn't let her leave.

Merlin rose quickly to his feet and, a strange confidence settling upon his shoulders, began striding towards the two women.

"Morgause!"

She looked up quickly and her dark eyes burned with frustration when she saw him. "I have had enough of you, boy," she hissed, removing one hand from Morgana to throw a deadly wave of energy towards him.

Merlin straightened his shoulders and held out his hand. "_R__andgebeorh._"

The energy died away before it came close to him and Morgause's eyes widened. For a moment she looked stunned and Merlin felt his courage strengthen at the sense of release that flooded him. With care but without taking her eyes from him, Morgause lowered Morgana's body gently to the ground and rose to her feet. A cruel smile curved her lips.

"Well, well," she murmured. "Arthur has a pet warlock. The serving boy knows some tricks."

Merlin mirrored her smile. "One or two," he agreed. "_Drisne sylfum __æsc __betreppaþ híe."_

With a great rending groan the ground at Morgause's feet began to split apart and up out of it came the roots of the trees which stood near her. They travelled swiftly, reaching for Morgause and travelling up around her legs with speed, twisting and entwining.

Morgause growled her magic at them, blasting them from her body with sharp upward movements of her arms, but Merlin was prepared for that.

"_Æled_," he murmured, taking a leaf from Arthur's book and kindling a ball of fire in the upturned palm of his hand. He stepped forward and rolled it towards her. "_Ic i __befæðme_."

The fire travelled in a straight line to Morgause before splitting just before her and moving to encircle her. The flames leapt to waist height and Merlin watched with satisfaction as Morgause was forced to raise a hand to protect her face from the fierce heat.

Reaching a desperate hand to the sky, Morgause shouted her next spell into the night air. "_I__c i __geríne."_

Rain began to fall from the cloudless sky in big, quenching drops and Merlin could make out Morgause's self-satisfied smile through the rising smoke. He set his jaw and his eyes flashed with gold as he looked up at the falling rain. Instantly, the drops of water transformed into beads of fire, shining yellow and orange against the stark night sky and raining down upon Morgause. With a simple motion of his fingers, Merlin sent a twisted wind towards them and which caught the pouring flames and sent them swirling into a cyclone of fire around her.

Morgause could not withhold the cry which escaped her lips as she fought to form a shield against the twisting inferno. Merlin lost sight of her within the flames but knew better than to expect victory. Within seconds she had managed to extinguish the flames and stood before him, her chest rising and falling heavily and with an expression of confusion on her face.

"Who _are_ you?" she asked slowly, her voice breathless.

Merlin leant forward a little, a smile playing on his lips. "Emrys," he breathed, pausing only to watch horrified revelation play itself out on her face before he called down the heavens upon her.

* * *

**A/N: Review? Please? We're drawing towards the end of this story (one way or another) – there are only another two or three chapters to go, so let me know if there's anything you're really hoping will/won't happen before the end :) **


	18. Revenge

**A/N: Only two more chapters to go after this and the next one is half written already. Nearly there! This chapter changes a bit between the different points of view as the battle is fought but I'm hoping it's fairly easy to follow. Thanks for the reviews. Hope you enjoy.**

Chapter 18. Revenge

Even as she fought to stay upright, using every drop of her magic to fight back the terrible wind which was threatening to blow her to oblivion, she thought of Arlen's words and cursed herself. Why had she never seen this in him? When she had looked at the boy in the past, why had she only seen the feeble servant and never the ferociously powerful warlock who stood before her now? At the very least, when her latest assault on Arthur had been beaten back so forcefully, her grip on his soul loosened, she should have known then that no ordinary magic could have achieved such a comprehensive victory. She should have known.

But he had deceived her all too easily and now she could hardly recognise the Merlin she knew in the man standing before her, confident, commanding and utterly furious.

"Did you think no one could stop you, Morgause?" He was shouting at her, his voice carrying unnaturally over the raging tempest. "Did you think you could take Arthur so easily?"

The anger in his words translated into his magic and Morgause felt the wind drive harder still and a storm of ice unleash itself upon her. The white shards, like frozen bolts of lightning, came flying at her from the pitch black sky and she found herself scrambling to divert them all. He had the upper hand and she had to gain it back somehow. She fought frantically to keep herself alive, all the while looking for the opportunity to take advantage. If she didn't find away to bite back he would have her finished in no time at all.

* * *

Merlin could feel the energy running through him. But unlike earlier, when he had been caught up in the rawness and fury of the magic around him, he now felt completely composed. He was angry, but his anger was reasoned and perfectly channelled. As he directed the elements, twisting and turning them, forming them into weapons with innate ease, he felt grounded like never before.

It was Morgause who had turned Morgana, taking her loneliness and fear and exploiting them; using her need for acceptance to taint her beliefs, her magic. It was Morgause who had tormented Arthur with the vision of his mother; who had driven Uther to insanity after Morgana's return. She had brought fear to Camelot, thinking nothing of those she felled in her crusade to destroy the Pendragons, caring not that her misuse of magic was setting back the cause she supposedly fought for. And it was Morgause who had forced Merlin into poisoning Morgana, an act he still struggled to live with, regret fighting with his logic in a battle neither would ever win.

Hate stirred in his soul as he cast forth spears of ice. He would make Morgause regret what she had done. And then he would destroy her.

* * *

Morgause drew all her strength together and gasped the words she needed to make a shield appear before her, blue-tinged, shimmering and ever so fragile. She knew it would buy her only a little time.

"Emrys," she called, trying to make herself _feel _the confidence her voice suggested. "So much power and yet you play servant boy to the Pendragons. How _do_ you bear the humiliation?"

She saw him smile, his lips curved but his eyes scornful. "Don't worry about me, Morgause. Gaius says it's character building."

She laughed as lightly as she could. "Character building? Well, no wonder they don't take you seriously if you see yourself as such a joke. No wonder they think nothing of you."

Merlin shook his head, that smile still hanging about his lips. "I can see what you're doing, Morgause. It won't work."

"Won't it? I'm not trying to trick you, Emrys. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know to be true. You're a powerful warlock and yet you allow them to treat you like dirt." Sudden realisation dawned on her face. "They don't even know the truth about you, do they, _Merlin_? They don't even begin to know who you are."

He stayed silent, his eyes fixed on her firmly.

"How terribly noble of you. But..." She let her head tilt to one side. "Don't you long for respect, Merlin? For recognition?"

Merlin's look had hardened. "It isn't about me."

"No," Morgause allowed. "Perhaps not. But only because you allow it to be that way. Your powers are obviously exceptional. If you were to join forces with Morgana and I..."

"Enough, Morgause!" At the sound of Merlin's voice the leaves at her feet picked up and began to skitter across the ground, a gathering of black clouds rumbling overhead. "That will _never_ happen," he said slowly. "I will never abandon what I believe in."

"But what you and I believe is the same," Morgause cried, pushing more energy into her shield and hoping it held. "We both believe the war against magic must end. We both believe Uther should suffer for what he has done. We want the same things, Emrys."

"No! I don't want _revenge_," Merlin shouted contemptuously. "I want an _end_ to this fighting. I want peace."

Morgause couldn't help the snide smile which pulled at her lips. "Peace is overrated," she murmured. "Come, Emrys, you must see that our paths lie together?"

Emrys had apparently had enough. He raised his hand out to one side, his palm raised towards the heavens. At his command the clouds above clashed and groaned. "My path lies with Arthur," he said with certainty. "One day he will be King of all Albion and when that happens the world we create will have no place for the likes of you, Morgause."

The bolt of energy which hit her shield caused it to quiver perilously and a thin patch appeared, glowing with the golden residue of Merlin's magic.

* * *

It was Arthur's magic which nudged him awake, urging him back to consciousness. His body was so heavy he felt like part of the ground, cold and immovable. He clenched his right hand into a fist and felt the decaying leaves crumble between his fingers.

He could hear voices and the crashing of thunder overhead but it took all he had to focus his mind enough to understand what was happening.

He heard Morgause's voice shouting forcefully and with a flash he remembered her arrival, the look on her face when she laid eyes on Morgana.

Morgana.

Arthur gasped for breath.

"...evil and self-serving." It was Merlin. What was he doing? Was he trying to get himself killed? "I could never be so faithless."

There was a loud crash and Arthur fought desperately to open his eyes and make his body move. He needed to get up. He _had_ to get up.

"And so you place your faith in Arthur Pendragon? He would abandon you without a second thought. Give up your ridiculous fantasies and you might survive this night."

Merlin's laughter. How was he laughing? What was the idiot _thinking_?

"I will not forsake Arthur."

More crashes. Noise so horrendous he felt it vibrate through his body. Merlin. He had to move. He had to do _something_.

"Arthur is the Once and Future King and people will remember his name long after yours is left to rot on the byways of history, Morgause!" Merlin's words thundered around the clearing, his voice more powerful than Arthur could ever have imagined it could be.

His head whirled with pain and confusion but, slowly, stubbornly, Arthur began to push himself up from the ground.

* * *

Morgause could barely maintain her shield against the onslaught unleashed upon her. She had never seen such magic, drawn forth with such natural ability. He was concentrating but his lips did not move. His eyes roamed around the clearing, his hands directed his attack with absolute self-assurance. She knew she was clinging to survival and she _would_ have been scared...if it were not for the fact that she knew she had him.

She glared back at him, furious at the rebuff, incensed that he dared to discount her so quickly.

"It is your loyalty to the Prince that will undo you!" she roared.

Merlin drew down a bolt of lightning which hit her shield, tearing it to pieces and knocking her back a step. The ground shook and the clouds overhead grew denser. Sparks flew from them and began falling to the earth. There was no time left. Morgause lifted her hand and reached out to where Arthur Pendragon was shakily drawing himself up onto his hands and knees.

The words slipped easily from her tongue and at once a long thin band of golden light flew from her hand directly to the Prince where it hit and pierced his back perfectly, as she'd known it would. He cried out in agony and fell forward, his body writhing until he was stretched out staring blindly up at the black sky, his back arched and golden light enthralling his torso.

Morgause kept her hand aloft and the vibrant ribbon of light which connected her to the Prince multiplied until there were numerous ties leaping and snapping in the air, each one strengthening her hold on him. It felt just as wonderful as it had when she had first created the bond in that dark cave with Morgana. She whispered to her magic and it began to pull, tugging on the connection until the mighty Arthur Pendragon whimpered with the pain of it.

Triumphantly she turned to Merlin and her eyes sparkled with delight as she saw the devastation written on his face. He was open-mouthed and staring at Arthur as though he couldn't believe the events, or his own lack of foresight. His magical attack was forgotten. Her lips curved cruelly.

"It's over," she whispered.

* * *

Merlin cursed himself with words he hadn't even known he knew. He should have killed her. He had had his chance and he had been taking too much pleasure in punishing her, teaching her the extent of his power, to do what he should have done. He should have finished her and now she'd turned the tables.

He stared at Arthur, at the rigid posture of his body, and allowed himself a moment of wretched remorse. The Prince's head was pushed back into the leaf-strewn dirt, his hands held up away from his body like claws, and it was obvious the pain was torturous. Maybe Merlin should have yielded to Morgause – her control over the bond appeared absolute – but something inside him screamed to him that that would not be the right thing to do.

"Let him go, Morgause," he called across the suddenly stilled clearing. "I'm warning you; you need to let him go _now_."

Her laugh was light and cold. "You're warning me, Merlin? I can't help but think there might be something you're missing here."

Her eyes flashed and the bonds between her and Arthur seemed to surge, eliciting a fresh cry from Arthur. Merlin fought down the feeling of desperation rising in his throat and narrowed his eyes as he watched Morgause. She was staring back at him intently, challenging him. Daring him.

* * *

"This is _real_ magic, you see, Merlin. Not just tricks and childish ploys, but ancient wisdom drawn from nature itself. This bridge I've created to your precious Prince, this bond..." She paused as she sought the right words to describe the sensation, the feeling of being linked to another in a way which allowed you draw on their strength, whisper to their mind and reach towards their soul. "It is _perfect_ magic."

"It's wrong, Morgause. It's a misuse..."

"Quiet!" She was suddenly furious. She would not take this from the boy who had managed to deceive everyone for so long...and for what? So that he could remain nestled in the heart the murderous family she had been forced to send her sister back to? The one they had been fighting to destroy? How dare he preach to her about misuse of magic when he had spent years now using his abilities to protect the vile progeny of Uther Pendragon instead of fighting for his own kind? Now he was going to learn the cost of his treachery, she'd make very sure of that.

Morgause looked across at where Morgana lay on the ground, her eyes closed now but her chest still rising and falling in an uneven fashion. The hurried spell Morgause had used to ease her suffering was fading and they had little time left. It was time for them to go. The three of them.

"You'll do me a favour, won't you, Merlin?" she asked, taking a few steps towards Morgana but taking care to maintain a strong link with Arthur and never taking her eyes from Merlin. "When Uther asks after them, be sure to tell him that I have both his precious children safely in my care."

"You're not taking Arthur, Morgause. I won't let you."

"You don't have a choice. If you try to stop us going I'll kill him."

Merlin was shaking his head, his lips pursed firmly together. "I won't stop you taking Morgana. Just let go of Arthur and I'll let you take her wherever the hell you want."

"He's coming with us!" Morgause barked. "I will heal Morgana and I will use Arthur to tear his father apart! Uther's reign will end and the whole of Camelot will know the pain that has been inflicted on those with magic these many years."

She was nearly at Morgana now, dying skin startlingly white against dark red blood and the earthy forest floor.

"I won't let you do this."

He was obstinate, this foolish young warlock; unable to see when he was beaten. And there was the truth suddenly before her eyes. Merlin wouldn't admit defeat where the Prince was concerned. If she let him live now he would find them, wherever she hid Arthur away. He had toyed with her earlier and lost the advantage. She would not now do the same.

Keeping her left hand raised in Arthur's direction, the ribbons of light snaking constantly around each other on their way to Arthur's prone body, Morgause lifted her right and held her palm out towards Merlin. The boy shifted nervously on his feet, his eyes flicking around as if the answer to all his problems was simply waiting for him around the edge of the clearing. He was too scared to attack her when she held Arthur's life in her hand. He was powerless.

"Goodbye, Merlin. You should..."

She felt the shift in the energy, an altering somewhere inside herself, subtle but unmistakeable, and it took her breath away. A pull. A tugging at her seams. Her eyes skipped from Merlin's face to her own hand held out before her which was shaking inexplicably. The world around her seemed to slow. The words she had been about to speak were completely forgotten. She allowed her eyes to travel to her left, in the direction she could feel herself being drawn. She saw him standing there. She saw him and felt him. She saw him, but she could not believe.

* * *

"Arthur." Merlin breathed the name.

He couldn't believe he was standing there. He looked pale and drawn, his expression pained and his eyes sunken. But he was concentrating fiercely and somehow, _somehow_, he was managing to control the magic.

His right hand was held out and the threads of energy were now flying straight to his palm rather than wrapping fiercely around his chest. The beams themselves leapt higher than ever and close to Arthur's hand, like the hot glow of burning embers, Morgause's strands of gold were beginning to turn a raw and brilliant red.


	19. Selfdestruction

A/N: I know! It's not like me to update so quickly, is it? I wasn't happy with where I left the last chapter. I'd written the battle as one big block and I had the choice to either have a shortish Chapter 18 and a normal 19 or one mammoth Chapter 18, and I went with option A. Unfortunately, it's left some people with some misleading ideas and, as I really don't want to 'disappoint' anyone, I've knuckled down on Chapter 19 and I'm going to publish it now as Chapter 18 is probably better read _with _Chapter 19. Clear as mud, right?

Thanks for the reviews. I really appreciate honest opinions and it's great of you to take the time.

And **Mark**, (if you're still reading!) I hope this clears things up for you. Sorry that my bad planning gave you the wrong impression about what I was trying to get across :)

* * *

Chapter 19. Self-destruction

His hand was hot. The red light which seemed to burn forth from his palm was slowly encroaching on Morgause's gold and he watched it as if in a dream, his head swimming and his pulse sounding violently in his ears. He felt faint. His whole body hurt. He wasn't even sure what he was doing. The magic seemed to be working for itself, responding to his desperate desire to be free. All he knew was that he needed to get away from the bonds if he were to get to Merlin before he got himself killed.

It had taken every bit of effort he still had within him to rise from the ground. How could he lie there while Guinevere lay hurt? How could he lie there while Merlin fought a _sorceress_ for him? With them both in his heart he had stumbled to his feet. Now, as he watched the awful streams of light flying between him and Morgause, he truly hated the magic within him for the first time. He wanted _it_ gone. He wanted _Morgause_ gone. He wanted to be himself again so desperately it hurt. But all he could do was stand and watch as if entranced as his 'borrowed' magic revolted, unbidden, before his very eyes.

* * *

Arlen stepped through the trees at the edge of the clearing and paused there, taking in the scene which was probably the last thing he had expected to see.

He had told Morgause from the beginning that the risks she took with this magic, the lack of respect she had shown for it, would create unbalances she would not be able to control. And here – here was the proof. Camelot's Prince, this perfect masculine translation of all the fire and nobility Arlen had observed in Ygraine a lifetime ago, was proving to be a ridiculously unstable vehicle for the magic Morgause had bestowed upon him. The display of light was close to blinding. Morgause's magic was coming back to her when she wanted it the least.

It was through the glare of the beams of light that he saw him. He was watching with both hands slightly raised, as though poised to intervene but uncertain as to when or how...or even if he should. Arlen was amazed Morgause had never seen the truth in him.

"_Emrys."_

The young man's eyes lifted immediately and met his. A thrill ran through him.

"_Emrys. I have long wondered if I would ever meet you."_

"_Who...who are you?" _The young man's voice sounded inside his head, strong but wary.

Arlen shook his head. _"It does not matter. This is not the time."_

"_Who _are _you?"_ he asked again. This time he raised his right hand a little higher and fixed Arlen with a steady glare.

Arlen considered the young man opposite him very carefully. He was tall and had the look of boy who had grown so quickly his body had been taken by surprise. He couldn't help but wonder to what extent his magic was the same. What would this boy be capable of by the time his magic matured? He had already defended Arthur against the strongest attack Morgause had been able to make. Arlen was without doubt that the prophecies had not exaggerated this warlock's skill.

He sighed deeply. _"Morgause came to us on the Isle of the Blessed when she devised this plan. I came to make sure it did not go too far awry."_ It was a non-committal reply but it was the best he was prepared to give. He could not tell Emrys if he was friend or foe when he was not entirely sure of the answer himself.

The young man seemed to be contemplating his words when one of the thin lines connecting Arthur to Morgause, half burning red and the other half pure gold, snapped with a loud crack and the two ends flicked up into the night sky like a pair of whips before fading into nothing. Arthur and Morgause both seemed to stagger slightly, as though they had received a heavy blow.

It was as though Emrys, too, had felt the blow and had it knocked him into action. His right hand came up further until it was pointing directly at Arlen and he turned his body, bracing his feet firmly against the ground_. "Whoever you are, tell me what I can do to help Arthur. Now!"_

* * *

Merlin stared at the man opposite who was considering him with an untroubled composure which was enough to drive him mad. Between them stood Arthur and Morgause, the attention of both entirely focused on the ribbons of light. Morgause looked fierce and a deep frown was etched on her face. She whispered magic under her breath and seemed to be pouring everything she had into bringing the situation under control. Arthur, on the other hand, looked so ill Merlin was surprised he was still standing. His face was frozen into the same expression he saw him bear so often on the training field, but the more he watched him the more he wondered if he was more entranced than focussed.

Another ribbon of light broke with a dry snap. Arthur's body shook and he almost stumbled. Merlin looked to the newcomer with angry desperation.

"_What should I do?" _Merlin demanded, his caution thrown aside_. "If I try to stop them...If I attack Morgause..."_

"_No, your instincts are right, Emrys,"_ the man answered, finally_. "The connection runs deep. There is no way to know what danger our interference might bring."_

"_Then _what_? I don't understand. The dragon told me Arthur would not be able to truly control the magic."_

The man raised his eyebrows at the mention of the dragon but showed no further emotion. _"He is controlling nothing. He is strong and his being is fighting against the magic, rejecting it. Does this surprise you, Emrys? It has acted on his emotions for him since he came into possession of it, has it not? Now he wants it gone, the connection destroyed."_

"_He's wanted that from the start,"_ Merlin countered.

"_Perhaps not badly enough? In any case, I'm afraid you must bide your time."_

At that point, the man suddenly turned his head, searching around the clearing with his cautious, narrow eyes. _"Morgana,"_ he spoke to Merlin, as though he had just realised her absence. _"I thought she would be here."_

Wincing as a third ribbon cracked overhead, Merlin looked quickly over to where Morgana still lay, her body ominously still. The man's eyes followed and for the first time Merlin observed a display of real emotion. His eyes widened and he began to move, his cloak sweeping along the ground as he hurried in her direction.

Another snapped string of light. Morgause cried out and Merlin saw Arthur's eyes close for a moment. He swayed perilously.

"_No."_ Merlin ran towards Morgana, standing before her and blocking the newcomer's path. _"Tell me what to do to help Arthur. Tell me!"_

"_Please, Emrys,"_ his words sounded inside his head. _"Let me tend her. She barely lives."_

Merlin looked him in the eye, this man who seemed to know so much. He shook his head slightly. _"Tell me what I can do first."_

The man remained silent for only a moment longer. _"You cannot break the bond now,"_ he said, his grim and motionless face betraying nothing,_ "and Arthur would not survive to do it himself even if he had the ability. Wait until more of the ties have been destroyed. When the bonds have been weakened and Morgause's magic has left Arthur, perhaps then if you attack the bond...you may still be able to save him."_

Merlin stared back at him as he assessed this advice. He did not know how well it could be trusted and yet...and yet he had no other path to take. He stepped aside, leaving the man to sink down next to Morgana and began to circle back around to where Arthur stood.

In Arthur's trance he did not appear to be aware of anything but the chains of light before him and Merlin wished he could let him know that he was not alone. Instead, all he could do was stand back and watch as Morgause's magic selfdestructed, threatening to draw both Arthur and Morgause along with it.

Two streams of light broke in quick succession. Arthur dropped to his knees and his hand seemed to be held aloft by the magic rather than by any inclination of Arthur's. Still four beams cracked through the air, strong but volatile. Merlin felt his heart pounding as though it were trying to escape his ribcage.

"_She lives, Emrys."_

Merlin didn't even look over to where the man sat with Morgana but he felt a strange wave of relief break over him somewhere deep inside.

"_If...if you let me take Morgause with us, then I will take Morgana to someone who can heal her."_

Merlin looked now. Behind Morgause and slightly to her left he could see the man crouched on the ground, Morgana lying limply in his arms by Cenwig's dead body. "No," he answered out loud. "Morgause goes nowhere."

"_Please, Emrys. I have sworn an oath to watch over Morgause. I believe you care for Morgana. I will ensure she is given every chance to recover if only you let me take Morgause with me."_

Merlin shook his head. Another chain of red and gold broke apart. Morgause cried out; anger, pain and disbelief combined in the one primal cry. Merlin raised his hand towards her, readying himself.

"No," he said again.

"_Emrys, I'm asking you..."_ But he ignored him, blocking his voice, closing his mind to it.

He tried to feel the anger that had driven him earlier, the calm, righteous hatred he had felt when he had attacked Morgause, but fear was clouding everything. He knew what he _should_ do. He knew he should bring an end to her at the same time as he attacked the last remaining chains. Morgause should die even if it meant sacrificing Morgana.

"Merlin." Morgana's voice rang in his ears though it was only a whisper. He drew his eyes away from the last few strands, from a fading Arthur whose eyes were closed and breathing shallow.

She was staring back at him through the darkness and something about the softness of her eyes and the vulnerability in her tone made her seem just like she used to before...Before.

"Merlin, please...I...Help me..."

Her words were so desperate, her voice broken. He gazed back at her, open-mouthed.

A loud crack. Merlin's eyes left Morgana's. One of the final links had broken. Cut loose, the two ends flew up into the sky, sending sparks flying before they died to nothing. Arthur let out a low, rattling groan.

Merlin raised his hand towards Morgause. The two remaining links surged with uncontrolled energy, pulsing violently. He had sworn to himself that if he had had the chance to live his time again, he would not have saved Morgana when she fell. He would have heeded the Great Dragon's advice and let her die. Now he was presented with the same dilemma all over again. He had to act now. There was no more time.

Her plea rang in his ears. The softness of her voice spoke to his soul.

Conviction gripped him. He drew a breath, braced himself and moved his hand towards the right, away from Morgause, so that it was pointing directly at the centre of the shining chains. He shouted into the clearing.

"_Ábrice!_"

The noise was immense. A violent roar erupted as the two links were ripped apart, shards of light flying in every direction. The ground shook and trees bent back away from the clearing at the force of the blast. Arthur slumped to the ground in a heap and Morgause toppled backwards onto the forest floor. Her guardian was prepared and he reached out to grip her wrist the second it hit the ground. He nodded to Merlin, one hand grasping Morgause's wrist and the other arm wrapped around Morgana's chest. Amid a cloud of black smoke, Merlin made out Morgana's eyes for the briefest of moments, wide and gazing back at him. Then there was nothing.

As the echo died away, Merlin found himself standing alone in the clearing, the sudden silence hurting his ears. He took a couple of steps forward and dropped to the ground to place a hand on Arthur's chest. When he felt a soft but steady rise and fall he sat back on his heels. Yards away Guinevere moved slightly as she struggled back towards consciousness. A soft breeze wisped through the tops of the trees.

He sat there and stared out in front of him. He didn't think of anything. Not of the magic he had seen, Morgause's fury or Morgana. Not even of Arthur. Nothing. He was barely even aware of the noises growing louder from somewhere between the trees as Sir Leon led a group of knights towards them through the forest.

* * *

It was gentle. Gentle and soothing in its slow repetitive movement.

Arthur drew a deep breath and felt the walls of his chest resist, tight and painful. He winced and a wound somewhere on his face puckered slightly. He stilled his body, trying to avoid causing any further pain.

The slow sweep across his forehead continued and Arthur was reminded that all around his body was comfort. He was in bed, cocooned in soft warmth. He could feel a beam of sunlight falling across his face. Almost reluctantly, he forced his eyes open.

For a moment everything was blurry, the light shining on his face from the window making it hard to make out the details of the dark, backlit shapes around him. Gradually his eyes adjusted.

"Father?"

The dark outline of Uther's bulk began to come into focus. He was close, sitting on the edge of the bed, concern etched on his face and left arm stretched out towards him. Arthur realised with a little shock that it was Uther who was stroking his head.

The understanding that his son was awake seemed to dawn on Uther a little slowly, but, when it did, he removed his hand from Arthur's head abruptly and sat up a little straighter.

"Arthur. How do you feel?"

Arthur closed his eyes and tried again for a deeper breath. He tried to adjust his body but everywhere hurt. He gave up and relaxed against the sheets.

"He's awake, Gaius."

He opened his eyes at the sound of footsteps and the physician's face appeared above his own. A kindly but cautious smile broke across the old man's face.

"So he is. That's very good. How do you feel, Sire?"

Arthur swallowed. "Sore. Thirsty."

Gaius smiled again and disappeared from his line of vision.

"So, he will recover fully from this...illness?"

Uther was standing up now next to the bed, the tenderness of moments earlier forgotten as he addressed his court physician briskly. Arthur frowned in puzzlement at his father's choice of words.

"Yes, Sire," Gaius assured him, reappearing on the same side of the bed as Uther. "I'm certain."

Arthur allowed his head to be lifted with the hand Gaius slipped behind him and he drank slowly from the cup held to his lips.

"And you're sure this enchantment has been broken? The moodiness and the...the magic will not return?"

Arthur pulled back from the cup in confusion. He tried to look around Gaius to where his father was standing but Gaius caught his gaze. The old man frowned deeply and gave him a subtle shake of the head. Uncertain but obedient, Arthur said nothing but settled his head back against the pillows.

Uther had his back to him, his hands firmly on his hips. When he turned back towards him, his expression displayed an odd mixture of gravity and awkwardness. Gaius dropped back out of sight and began repacking his bag.

"Now, Arthur," the King began, haltingly. "We will discuss this once and then we shall speak of it no more. You understand?" He did not wait for his son's reply but went on regardless, determined to get out the words which he seemed to have pre-prepared. "The enchantment you fell victim to was not your fault. I understand that you were not responsible for your poor behaviour, your anger, the...the words that were said between us. Consequently, there will be no punishment for your use of magic and other treasonous activities."

He paused there and looked at Arthur as though he were waiting for something. Arthur caught a glimpse of Gaius over his father's shoulder. The physician nodded at him with raised eyebrows, prompting him.

"Yes, Sire. Thank you," Arthur managed.

Uther nodded. "I want you to take your time and ensure you are fully...recovered. Some time alone – out of the public eye – will be for the best, I think. When Gaius can assure me that you are free of any illness or...after effects, I will allow you to return to your duties."

Arthur nodded, a numb feeling growing in his chest. "Thank you, Father."

Uther nodded again, pleased with Arthur's response. "Very well. We will not discuss it again. I will leave you now – you need to rest."

Arthur stared out in front of him as Uther rounded the bed and began to walk towards the door. It was a sudden thought which prompted him to speak impulsively.

"Father, Merlin and Guinevere? Cenwig? Are they alright?"

Uther turned, displeasure written on his face and his limited patience obviously at an end. "Really, Arthur. You should not be concerning yourself with the welfare of servants. Someone will be assigned to you while you convalesce." His eyes shifted awkwardly. "Sir Cenwig was killed in the confrontation. He has been cleared of the charges against him posthumously. "

Arthur withheld the groan he felt rise in his throat. "And Morgana?"

Uther looked back at him coldly, his face betraying nothing. "She is no longer your concern...or mine."

He walked swiftly from the room after that, his shoes clipping a cold hard sound across the stone as he went.

"Gaius?" Arthur turned to him urgently.

"They're both fine," Gaius supplied, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "Merlin has worn himself out and is a little unwell, but he'll be good as new in a day or two."

Arthur let out a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes again, exhaustion eating away at him already.

"We do not know Morgana's fate," Gaius continued in a lowered voice. "Merlin says she was taken with Morgause after the bond was broken. Your father will not speak of her to anyone but he seems to have accepted her culpability. No search party has been dispatched."

There was a stretch of silence and Arthur felt his mind drifting. When Gaius interrupted Arthur had to focus his mind to take in the words.

"Arthur, what do you remember from the confrontation with Morgause? Was there anything...I mean...Was Merlin any use to you, at all?"

He puckered his head at the oddity of the question but then remembered Merlin's defiance of Morgause while he himself lay injured on the ground. He shook his head slightly at the thought of it but kept his eyes closed, sleep tugging at him persistently.

"It's a wonder he isn't dead," he muttered. "He's braver than he has any reason to be."

Then it was easy to let the fog of sleep pull him in and let the aches and pains which wracked his body fade away into a temporary oblivion.

Arthur didn't see the reassured smile on the physician's face as he rose from the bed and collect his bag, relieved that when he returned to Merlin's bedside he would be able to give the boy the news that his secret was still his to reveal, when the two were well enough.

* * *

By a bedside in a dark room, she sat with one hand to her face as she watched her sister sleep. Bitterness enveloped her, shrouding her in a thick cloud of shadow from which she had no desire to free herself.

Merlin was to blame. Here they were, trapped in Arlen's care, Morgana still clinging to the very fringe of life. Her plan to free magic from the Uther's crushing grip had ended with her life being begged for. Victory had been ripped from her hands.

And Merlin. Merlin would be back home in Camelot, wrapped snugly in the secure knowledge that, despite his use of magic to defeat her, still no one knew that he was a traitor not only to his own kind, but to his King and Prince as well. She hated him.

Morgana murmured in her sleep and Morgause reached out one hand to wipe her fevered brow, but stopped before the cloth touched her skin. She had felt it there, the last dying thread of the ancient magic, since she recovered consciousness back here in Arlen's home. It was fated to die as she no longer had the power to nurture it and too much damage had been done. But perhaps...

Rising from her seat by the bed, Morgause walked to the small window some feet away. She closed her eyes and pictured it, the thin golden string of light. Her link. Her vehicle. Slowly she began to whisper to it, lacing it with her message and urging it on. It hummed and vibrated with the knowledge she had given it, carrying it forward, moving it to the other end of the chain.

It lasted not even a minute. She felt it snap and a rush of energy left her, leaving her utterly drained. The last link was gone. But it had delivered its message.

_Merlin has magic. Merlin has magic._


	20. You have magic

**A/N: Here it is – the end! I'll warn you now that it's long. **

**Thank you so much for all the reviews. You're all brilliant for taking the time to let me know what you think and I appreciate each and every one of them. I know there are a few people who are disappointed with some aspects of what happened in this story, but all I can say is that I wrote this story the way I saw it. I can't please everyone, so I just had to please myself and hope one or two other people might like it too. Having said that, it turns out I'm a little thin-skinned when it comes to this kind of thing!**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy the end to the story. I'm going to be working on some ideas which flow on from Watching the Girls Go By next and I'm looking forward to writing something light and airy! Thanks again for the reviews; they've meant a lot to me.**

* * *

Chapter 20. You have magic 

"Arthur, stop! You're going to hurt yourself. This is...Arthur, please!"

He could hardly hear Gwen's words over the rushing of blood past his ears and his heart hammering away in his chest. He hurt from head to foot, as though he'd been riding hard for a week, but he had to move. He had to get to Merlin.

Free from his covers, he planted his feet on the ground. His head spun as he pulled himself upright.

"Arthur. That's enough," Gwen's tone was strict now, desperate. He felt her touch his arm through the thin fabric of his bed-shirt. There was confusion written on her face as she stood looking up at him, the early morning sunlight framing her face in a cloud of gold-lit curls. "Please, Arthur. Lie back down."

"Where's Merlin?"

His voice sounded raw even to his own ears. He reached out and placed a hand on Guinevere's shoulder to steady himself.

"Merlin? He's resting, Arthur. If you need anything I can..."

"I need Merlin," Arthur broke in obstinately. He let go of Gwen and began to walk around the bed, his eyes on the door. The skin of his bare feet stung against the cold stone. Merlin. He staggered and stopped. The name was ringing in his head and he didn't know...He couldn't believe...

Arthur shook himself, trying to clear the fog in his head and forced himself to continue towards the door.

"Arthur, you can't go out there," Guinevere cried, and there was something in her tone that made Arthur turn to look at her. She was wringing her hands, her expression pained. "Uther...he's put guards out there. He doesn't want you leaving the room, Arthur."

Even through the numbness, the disbelief, those words felt like a slap to his face. His father had lost faith in him. They might never speak again about what had passed over the last few days, but they'd never trust each other again either. It had been too much for Uther; the magic, the truth.

The truth.

He'd never felt so thoroughly sick in his life. Arthur felt his insides lurch and it was only with a quick and painful movement that he was able to reach the chamber pot before his stomach emptied itself, leaving him retching pitifully.

Guinevere's hand was on his head, stroking his hair as if she could wipe away every problem. And for a moment he was tempted; tempted to try to forget for a while, to give in to his weary body, to his father...to Merlin's lies.

But that last thought lit a fire within him and he shook himself free from Gwen, pulling himself back upright. He looked quickly around the room and his eyes fell on his sheathed sword lying on the table. He walked to it in a few quick strides, drew it with one well practiced movement and made for the door, determinedly ignoring Guinevere's pleas and the horrified look on her face.

The two guards on the other side of the door startled when he pulled it open, their eyes moving quickly from his face to the sword in his hand. They exchanged glances before the one on the right spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Sire, the King has..."

"Get out of my way."

"We can't allow..."

Arthur lashed out before he'd even thought about it. He needed to see Merlin and they were in his way. Simple. He disarmed the first, grabbed him by the back of the neck and pushed him into the wall. As that man crumpled, he struck out at the second, weakening his grip on his sword with a solid blow and hitting him in the face with his clenched left fist. He was walking down the corridor before the man even hit the ground, his sword tight in his hand, Guinevere running along behind him.

* * *

Merlin was lying still in his bed, his eyes closed and the fingers of his right hand running thoughtfully along the edge of his blanket. He could hear Gaius moving about beyond the door, clinking glass vials and moving books. Outside, sounds of the city drifted up towards his window. Everything had settled back to just as it had always been, except...except it hadn't.

He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling above him. He felt almost dizzy as he thought about it; of the fact that he'd let Morgana and Morgause go free, that he'd laid himself bare to both of them, that soon he would have to go to Arthur and tell him the truth. Merlin clenched his bottom lip between his teeth. He didn't know what would be worse; telling Arthur he had magic, or telling him he'd let them both go free.

Anxiety rushing through him, Merlin lifted a hand and ran it roughly through his hair. Now, back in Camelot, morning light shining through the window just as it had every day and would for every day to come, he wondered what he had been thinking in that black forest clearing. He thought of Morgana, close to death, limp and pleading. He'd let her go free. He'd saved her again, even though it meant releasing Morgause as well. For the life of him he didn't know how she kept this hold over him. He'd been so determined, so ready to right his previous mistake.

But there had been something about the way she'd said his name, begged for his compassion. Something that had given him a glimmer of hope, though he found it hard to believe now in the stark daylight. She'd been in so much pain and when she'd asked him for help he'd seen her as she used to be, vulnerable and honest. He'd felt so...sad. That after everything, after all the struggles and pain and laughter...he couldn't let it end like that.

And while the thought of his decision to spare Morgana sat uneasily in his stomach, the memory of his silence towards Arthur was roaring in his ears, berating him. Condemning him. He thought of the look on Arthur's face after Morgause's attack on his soul, of the burgeoning enlightenment in his eyes. How different would the outcome have been if they had walked into that clearing united by the truth? What if they...

The sound of the outside door being thrown open knocked him violently from his contemplation. He lay frozen in his bed, _knowing_ even before the words came.

"Where is he?"

"Arthur, you shouldn't be..."

"Where is he, Gaius?"

"Sire, Merlin is resting. You need to calm..."

"You've known all this time, haven't you? You've known and you've said nothing!"

Merlin couldn't breathe. He gasped for air as he strained to hear. Awkwardly, he pushed himself up from his pallet. He heard Gwen speaking, pleading with Arthur to stop, asking for an explanation. His head whirled as he stood up straight and walked forward gingerly. Footsteps sounded in the room beyond.

He reached out his hand and pulled open the door. Arthur was within reaching distance at the bottom of the steps, his eyes fixed on him and his sword clenched in his hand. He was dressed in only his bed-shirt and breeches and he looked both haggard and furious. Despite himself Merlin backed up, unable to stand his ground.

"Arthur..."

The Prince took the stairs quickly and then they were both standing in Merlin's room, the space too small for the pair of them, the air insufficient.

"You have magic."

The words sounded surreal coming from Arthur's lips. Merlin opened his mouth and closed it again. So many times he had imagined this and yet no words would come. He looked back at the familiar eyes before him and saw a coldness there that he had nearly forgotten.

"Say something!" Arthur's roar came suddenly and Merlin felt himself jump inside his skin.

"I...Arthur, I..."

Arthur registered his eyes flicking helplessly towards the sword and he cast it away with a frustrated growl. Its clatter rang around the room and did nothing for Merlin's nerves. Arthur advanced further, until they were only inches apart, looking even more threatening without his weapon than he had before, if that were possible. Merlin fought to swallow the lump in his throat. He could see the muscles in Arthur's jaw clenching.

"It's been years, Merlin. We've been...like this, for years and yet you've kept this a secret from me. Through everything. These last few days...I needed..." Confusion had passed briefly over Arthur's face and he shook away it now to gaze at Merlin accusingly. "There's been magic everywhere, Merlin, coming from every direction. You didn't think it would help for me to know? You didn't think it might be pertinent? After everything...Merlin, I had a _right_ to know this! How could you not have told me?"

"How could _you_ not have _known_?" Merlin shouted back, sudden rage and indignation filling every inch of his body. "When I fought back Morgause, when I came to you when she was taking you away...How could you not have seen _me_ in that? I saw you looking at me afterwards, Arthur. You knew, I know you did! And it's not as though that was the first time I ever used magic around you. If you weren't so busy thinking I was a complete idiot you would have seen it years ago."

Arthur shook his head. "Don't blame this on me, Merlin." His voice was weaker and his face pale. "You could have told me whenever you wanted to."

"It wasn't that easy! If I'd told you at the start you would have had me arrested..."

"That was a long time ago, Merlin."

"And these last few days," Merlin persisted, "we didn't know how you'd react. I didn't know if it was for the best."

Merlin looked across at Arthur and felt all the anger seeping away even as he fought to hold onto it. The Prince looked...defeated. Merlin couldn't argue this any longer, not when he barely believed it himself. "I've wanted to tell you for the longest time. It just never..." he sighed. "I didn't want you to hate me, Arthur."

The Prince didn't hold his gaze. He looked away, towards the window with its view over Camelot. When he spoke, his tone was quieter still. "What happened at the end? What happened to Morgana and Morgause?"

Merlin swallowed deeply and then let out a long, steadying breath. "I let them go." He paused, ready for a reaction, but there was none and so he rushed on. "I don't know why I did it. To save Morgana I had to let Morgause go and...I don't know. I couldn't let her die like that Arthur. I just wanted it over. I wanted us all to be safe. I'm sorry."

Whatever reaction he had expected from the Prince it wasn't the stone-cold silence which took grip of the room. It made Merlin nervous and he found himself talking rapidly, finding the words he'd always wanted to say.

"Arthur, please...I know this looks really bad, but I swear, I would never...I should have told you, I know I should have told you but it was so hard." Arthur was still looking away, his face turned towards the light. Merlin gasped and fought the stinging sensation at the bridge of his nose. His voice was shaky and desperate. "I told you once that I would be happy to serve you till the day I die, and I meant it. Serving you and helping you protect Camelot...Arthur, that's what my magic's _for_. I would never use it against you. You have to believe me. You _have_ to."

"I do."

The two simple words were spoken so quietly Merlin nearly talked right over them. As they sunk in all he could do was bite back the pleas which were on his tongue and stare in wonder. Arthur believed him. He trusted him. Merlin had never felt relief like it. Letting out a short, disbelieving laugh he found himself taking a step towards the Prince.

"Arthur, thank you. You have no idea..."

He stopped when Arthur turned back to him; stopped his steps, stopped his laughter. The Prince was looking at him with those cold, hard eyes again. Looking through him. Merlin felt the lump rise up again in his throat.

"You need to leave. I know you're not a threat to Camelot, but that's not enough. I want you to pack your things and go. Now."

"But if..."

"Don't argue with me, Merlin. It won't change anything. It's too dangerous for you to remain here and I...I have no use for you."

Merlin laughed again, shaky and panicked. "No _use_ for me? Arthur, you don't mean that."

It was the Prince's turn to laugh, low and bitter. "What would I need _you_ for, Merlin?" he spat. "If I have a mind to be lied to and deceived, there's always my father...or Gaius, apparently. Maybe I could even track down Morgana."

Merlin could feel the tears pricking his eyes and he fought them back as hard as he could. "That's not me. I'm your friend, Arthur. I know it might be hard..."

"I've kept nothing from you, Merlin!" the Prince exploded, anger lighting up his weary features. "I've been more honest with you than I have been with anyone _my entire life. _I know I've never said it, but I thought we were friends." His face contorted itself into a bitter smile. "But it wasn't really anything, was it? Because the whole time, you were keeping this from me. I trusted you more than anyone and you couldn't even trust me enough to tell me who you are!"

Merlin couldn't stop them now. The tears brimmed in his eyes and spilled over to run quickly down his cheeks. He didn't care.

"Please, Arthur..."

"I want you gone."

And the Prince turned, unsteady but moving quickly, and disappeared through the doorway. Merlin stared after him, suddenly utterly alone.

* * *

Arthur stared unblinkingly through the window, the part of his forehead which was leaning against the glass numb and uncomfortable. The rain had just stopped and stray beams of sunlight were hitting the stonework of the buildings opposite. Guinevere was talking, but he wasn't listening.

He'd met his father in the corridor outside his room on his way back from Gaius' chambers. They hadn't spoken but it was evident Uther had been informed of his son's 'escape'. There were a number of guards walking a respectful distance back from him and Leon was at the King's elbow, cautious and watchful. Arthur had been painfully aware of the fact that he'd left his sword behind in his haste to get away from Merlin.

Father and son had both stopped in their tracks upon seeing each other. Arthur fell back on his training and did his best to push down the emotion which was bubbling up inside him and put on a mask of cold indifference. Uther had been less successful, and his inner tumult had been easy to read. Arthur had nodded sharply and continued on, walking past the small group and slipping into his room. His father hadn't followed him and there had been no reposting of guards outside his door. It appeared they had come to some sort understanding, but Arthur was worryingly unsure of the terms. He pushed the thought aside.

Now, more than two hours after he'd left Gaius' chambers, Guinevere staring in utter shock, he still couldn't shake the image of Merlin's tearful face from his mind. He clenched his jaw together tightly as he thought of it, of the mumbled petition the young man had made as he had turned and walked from the room, of the look on Gaius' face as he'd hurried past him. He closed his eyes and breathed out deeply through his nose.

"I don't know how we didn't see it," Gwen was saying, her tone completely mystified. "I mean, it makes sense, now you think about it, but I never would have guessed..."

Arthur's breath fogged the window near his lips. _Now you think about it_. Now he thought about it he couldn't imagine how he had ever thought Merlin had been anything _but_ a sorcerer. His outrageously inexplicable survival in situations where, by rights, he should have been killed ten times over; his occasional forays into unexpected wisdom; the multitude of times when Arthur had looked back at Merlin, saw him looking at him with that impish little quirk of a smile and thought to himself, exactly what is it I'm missing here? Now he knew what it was he'd been missing and he felt...he felt...

"Stupid. Why am I so _stupid_?" He bumped his forehead solidly against the glass and scrunched his eyes together tightly.

The last thing he had wanted when he spoke was for Guinevere to come to him, but by the time she'd risen and walked the short distance to stand behind him, he was incredibly grateful to be able to lean back against her.

"You're not stupid, Arthur."

She sounded calm and reassuring, like a mother. She kissed the top of his head.

"I should have seen it," Arthur sighed. "I don't know how he kept it from me for so long."

It was so easy to see it now, in hindsight, and it was humiliating beyond belief that it had taken Morgause and her cruel magic for him to understand what had been going on under his nose for years...to understand Merlin. But if it hadn't been for her, for the message she'd sent him before the bond broke completely, he wondered now if he would have seen it after all. Merlin had been right. In the forest, after that wall of energy had raced past him, beating back the ice-cold grip which had begun to pull him apart, he had looked at Merlin and seen something. Cenwig had distracted him but Arthur wondered if, had the bonds been completely broken in the forest, he would now have been sitting here in his chambers, putting the pieces together for himself. Or, perhaps, Merlin would have come to him and confessed his secret willingly?

But something inside him revolted at this, at the extension of the benefit of the doubt. He didn't want to think the best of Merlin, to believe that he had been only moments away from honesty. Arthur was too angry; too hurt. He cringed at the realisation.

"How did we end up like this?" he muttered, melancholy gripping him tightly. "Everything's falling apart."

"It just seems that way," Guinevere answered. "Too much has happened too quickly. But things will settle. Time will pass and you'll get used to life again."

Arthur wondered how he was going to get used to not having Merlin around. When he'd first met the ridiculous youth who had swiftly been appointed his manservant, he never would have guessed that it would be possible for him to depend on someone as much as he had grown to on Merlin. With a strange combination of irreverence, ineptitude and utter loyalty, Merlin had made himself oddly indispensable. Now he was gone.

"I won't get used to it," he insisted. "I don't want to. I want my father not to have lied to me my whole life and not to have been ready to kill me when he thought I'd taken up magic. I want Morgana to be my father's _ward_. I want her still be the girl I grew up with not...not whatever she is now. And I want Merlin to be the incompetent idiot who trails around after me and never seems to get his head around the whole 'servant' idea."

His outburst was met with silence and Arthur felt Guinevere close behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders. He got the distinct impression she was choosing her words carefully.

"Do you think...do you think Merlin was _tricking_ you?"

"Of course he was tricking me!" Arthur cried, swivelling around on his seat and looking up at Guinevere. "I'm fairly sure I would have remembered if the words 'by the way, Arthur, I'm a sorcerer' had ever come out of his mouth."

"Yes, but do you think his nature isn't what he presented it to be? I mean, when I think of Merlin I think of someone who is friendly and caring and devoted. And if that wasn't an act (because I can't believe that it was) then he still is all those things."

"_And_ a sorcerer," Arthur finished.

"And a sorcerer," Guinevere confirmed quietly.

"Right."

Arthur sighed and ran a hand back through his hair. When he'd awoken, with Morgause's message ringing in his ears, he hadn't been able to see anything but the deceit; Merlin's part in this grand scheme of lies and treachery which seemed calculated to bring his world down around him, to pull the rug swiftly and brutally out from under his feet. But his anger had tempered since then. Guinevere's words were true and now, rather than furious, he found himself simply confused. The motives behind Morgana and his father's deceptions were selfish but Merlin...even now he could not question Merlin's loyalty to him. Merlin had thrown himself against Morgause's magic and saved him. Merlin had always stood by his side.

"You should hurry."

He looked back at Guinevere. She was smiling a little as though she found it amusing that she could read him so easily.

"If you leave it much longer you might not be able to find him."

He gazed at her only a second longer before jumping to his feet and beginning to search frantically for some clothes.

* * *

Over the last few minutes he had been beginning to worry that he might indeed have left it too late, or that he'd made a wrong choice somewhere along the track. When he'd ridden out of Camelot he'd turned his horse towards the path which would lead in the direction of Ealdor before coming to a sudden halt. After staring down the path for a while he'd pulled around and taken off quickly in the opposite direction. If Guinevere had been had been right and his servant was still the man he'd always thought he was, he knew there would be no chance Merlin would head home to his mother in disgrace. He'd be walking off to a destination unknown, attracting trouble at every turn.

Arthur had continued on without stopping to look in the tavern he passed, though the rain was threatening again. Any traveller with any sense would have sought shelter on a dark and tempestuous day like this...but common sense was not something Arthur had ever credited Merlin with before, and he saw no reason to start now. The Merlin he knew – _hoped_ he knew – would have allowed himself to get soaked to the bone rather than stopping for shelter: he would have seen some sort of poetry in the elements matching his frame of mind. Arthur was confident that was the kind of sentimental rot which would appeal to Merlin's flighty sensibilities.

However, as the clouds closed in again and his body – abused and exhausted by Morgause's magic – cried out in protest, there was still no sign of Merlin and Arthur was beginning to question his judgement. Maybe he had Merlin all wrong. He could be miles away in the opposite direction by now. He might never find him. He might never have known him in the first place.

Then there he was. At first all Arthur could see was a dark head bobbing along over the slight rise in the road, but he knew it was him. He urged his horse on and Merlin came properly into view, a small bag of possessions hung over his shoulder, his head bowed. Arthur felt a rush of nerves which overwhelmed even his relief.

He continued on until he was right behind Merlin. The idiot had moved over to one side of the path upon hearing him approach, leaving space for him to pass, but had never turned to see who it was who was coming towards him. What if he'd been a bandit? Hadn't Merlin learnt anything? Arthur rolled his eyes and moved his horse on until Merlin must have been able to feel its breath on the back of his neck. The young man let out a growl of frustration.

"_What_ is your problem?" he shouted, turning sharply. He seemed poised to say something else, but as he recognised Arthur atop his horse, he froze, shocked.

"We need to talk."

Merlin's lips twitched in that way they did when he was trying to suppress a smart-mouthed comment they both knew he was going to say anyway. "Don't you think we could have done that before I'd walked for three hours in the pouring sodding rain?"

Arthur refused to smile, but it took some effort. He swung himself down from his horse and faced Merlin. The young man was drenched, his hair stuck in flat clumps against his pale skin. He was watching Arthur with cautious eyes.

"So, you're a sorcerer."

"A warlock."

Arthur hitched up his eyebrows questioningly.

"I was born with it," Merlin explained. "I was using magic before I could talk."

"Then what in heaven's name possessed you to come to Camelot?"

Merlin squinted a little as he looked across at Arthur. "Do you want the long version or the short one?"

Arthur looked up at the gathering clouds. "Short."

"Destiny," Merlin answered simply.

It was one of those moments when Arthur didn't know what to make of him. What kind of answer was that? Frustrated, he shook his head.

"You've been lying to me since we met."

"I know." Merlin's expression was unreadable. "In the beginning it was the right thing to do, but somewhere along the line it stopped being right and I didn't notice until it was too late. Then I was stuck and I didn't know how to fix it. The longer I waited for the right moment to tell you the worse it felt and the more lies I had to tell..."

Merlin's voice drifted off and they both stood in silence. He was no longer meeting Arthur's eye, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. Arthur looked up again at the clouds and wished that the right thing to say would suddenly occur to him.

"I am sorry, Arthur." Merlin's eyes were glassy and bright. "I'm sorry I never found a way to tell you. And for letting Morgana and Morgause go. I know it's made things...difficult."

Arthur shook his head. "I couldn't..." He thought of Morgana, of her thin body pierced with Cenwig's sword and her blood flowing freely. His sister. "I would've done the same thing. We'll just have to be ready for them. At least it's out in the open now."

He must have sounded particularly despondent because Merlin looked him straight in the eye as he spoke.

"Things will calm down, Arthur," he said, using that confident, knowing voice Arthur had heard a few times before, as he unwittingly echoed Gwen's words. "I know it will be hard with your father. You know too much for things to be like they were before, but at least now you can learn to accept him for what he is. You need to remember you're your own man. You don't have to make the same mistakes he did...You can make brand new ones all of your own. You've a talent for it."

Arthur looked up at Merlin in time to catch the cheeky twinkle in his eye. He was giving him that cautious half-smile, testing the waters. Arthur couldn't hold back the grin which twitched at the corners of his mouth. Instead, he reached out and swatted Merlin around the head.

"Come on," he announced, assertively. "I'm tired. We need to get home so you can draw me a bath and fetch my dinner."

Merlin, for once, acquiesced with good grace and they turned and began walking side by side. Arthur led his horse and listened for a while to the steady trudge of their footsteps. It felt as though something had been set right. Something good had come of all this mayhem.

"So, are you any good?" he asked after a while, to be met with a confused look. "With your magic. Are you any good at it?"

"I get by," Merlin responded, edgily.

"Right, but can you, I don't know...lift things up in the air without touching them?"

"Yeah, I can do that."

Arthur thought for a moment. "Well, can you change the temperature just by thinking about it? I could do that."

Merlin fixed him with a disbelieving frown. "Arthur, are you trying to make this a competition?"

Arthur shrugged. "I'm just asking," he said, innocently.

"Yes, I can do that too," Merlin supplied, with careful patience. "I'm actually rather good."

A brief silence extended.

"Have you ever grown a magic garden _inside_?"

Merlin snorted with laughter. "Well..."

"_Have_ you?" Arthur persisted.

"No," Merlin admitted. "I haven't, but I could if I wanted..."

"But you haven't done it," Arthur laboured, smug in his victory.

Merlin sighed. "No, Arthur."

"Interesting."

That seemed to be enough to provoke Merlin. "I've destroyed a powerful priestess of the Old Religion by drawing down a bolt of lightning from the sky," he snapped. "Did you do that with your magic, clotpole?"

"You did _what_?"

"Destroyed her," Merlin repeated, obviously taking pleasure in Arthur's shock. "Right after I saved _you_ with water from the Cup of Life, incidentally. Not looking so clever now are you? The only thing you destroyed when you had magic was a venison sandwich."

"Shut up, Merlin."

The pair walked on a short way, but Arthur couldn't help sending a few glances Merlin's way.

"What?" Merlin snapped.

"Just trying to imagine you being competent at something. Typical, really. The only thing you're actually good at and it's outlawed on pain of death," Arthur observed, with a small grin. "I still don't get what you're even _doing_ in Camelot."

"Keeping you alive," Merlin muttered.

Arthur opened his mouth to protest but something pulled him up short. "We've got a lot to talk about, don't we?"

"One or two things," Merlin conceded.

"Well, my head can't take any more of it today. It can wait."

"Silence is golden," Merlin agreed, drawing a stern glare from Arthur.

They walked on for a few minutes without a word being spoken, but it was Arthur who eventually interrupted the quiet.

"What about magicing a deer out of nowhere? Can you do _that_? I could do that."

Merlin threw back his head and laughed. Arthur, grinning ear to ear, shoved him in the shoulder hard enough to knock him into the ditch at the side of the road. Another heavy, cleansing rain broke out across the fields.

**A/N: I really hoped you enjoyed it. Thanks so much for reading.**


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